


Reluctant Deliverance

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Allura and Lance are Siblings, Altean Lance (Voltron), Alternate Universe, Blood, Bodyguard, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Lance (Voltron), Druid Lance, Forced Marriage, Galra Keith (Voltron), Healing, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, Lima Syndrome, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Underage Sex, Prince Lance (Voltron), Stockholm Syndrome, Suicide Attempt, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-10-30 04:05:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10868742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Prince Lance had sacrificed himself to save his world, and the world saw him as a hero for it. He didn't know it, but during his captivity, the Blade branded him as a martyr, a target who needed to be freed. To do just that, Keith was sent. He wasn't expecting Lance to be anything other than a saint, however, or for him to have actually grown fond of the man who'd kidnapped him. Eventual Keith/Lance.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, it's finals week and I am a mess who doesn't know how to study despite years of this :)))  
> So here's a fic :)))

Keith hadn’t expected his first meeting with the famed Altean prince to be anything like this—well, to be fair, up until a few years prior, he hadn't expected to meet the prince _at all_. All his whole life, he heard legends of the Alteans; he knew that they were all beautiful, composed, and polite creatures. Since he’d begun training for his undercover mission with the Blade of Marmora, his education had been specifically dedicated to the Prince, Lance, by the royal family’s old advisor, Coran.

Yet, despite all the praises that the hero Prince had received in the years since his voluntary surrender to save his kingdom, despite all the pretty pictures that had been painted of him, Lance himself wasn't living up to the hype; in fact, he was currently a complete wreck. He smelled like alcohol, a hint of sex, and most recently, vomit.

“Fuck,” the Prince whined, seeming to sober up a bit as he leaned over the toilet. He stood shakily to his feet, wiping his face with an offered towel. He eyed Keith coldly, apparently not remembering their earlier introduction. “Well?” he asked. “Who the fuck do you think you are, looking at me like that?”

Keith grit his teeth, not the best at dealing with anyone else, let alone anyone with a bad attitude. Still, his mission required that he follow Lotor, Lance’s captor and husband, for a few months so that he could earn the man’s trust before letting the Blade into his castle ship; he'd gotten much better at containing his temper in the meanwhile. “Sir,” he began, struggling to keep his voice even. “I’m Keith, your personal guard.”

“The fuck I need a guard for?” He spat some remaining bile into his sink and tossed the towel on top of it. His long gown flared behind him as he brushed past Keith into his bedroom.

“Prince Lotor recommended it,” Keith explained while following after him. “And my name is Keith.”

“Keith, huh?” he scoffed. “Stupid name. You Galra all have such ugly names.”

Keith glared. He could understand Lance’s frustrations with the Galra, of course, given his life spent in servitude. But, Coran had gone on and on about how kind and forgiving Lance was; apparently, even a martyr’s kindness had its limits.

“Are you alright?” he asked when Lance threw himself onto his couch, shoes still on.

Lance lifted his head from his pillow. “I’m going to bed.”

“Sir, you have dinner with Lotor in a few hours. If you fall asleep now, I’m not sure you’ll be at your best when it comes time to meet him.”

“Fuck him!” Lance shouted, his outburst accompanied by a rude finger gesture. “You think I give a shit what that bastard thinks of me?” He turned onto his side, cuddling against the back of his couch. “Just wake me up half an hour before, or so, and bring me another bottle of wine when you do.”

“I don’t know if more alcohol—“

“Unless you want to be thrown to the dogs, I’d suggest you listen to me,” he warned. “Don’t forget your place, servant, I am still a prince in this castle.”

Keith’s fists clenched. “Very well, sir. I’ll wake you before dinner with new clothes and your wine.”

Lance nodded. “Good. You’ll learn yet.”

It only took a minute for the Altean’s breathing to even out. Keith sighed.

It had been an interesting first day in the castle, that was for sure. Prior to his reassignment, Keith had spent months working within the royal guard, giving the Blade whatever little information he could glean from the periphery as he marched around the castle grounds and trained in the barracks. He’d been shocked that he’d been selected to serve as Lance’s personal security, but it certainly made things much easier for the Blade. It was their goal, after all, to defeat Lotor and, if possible, to return Lance to Altea where he belonged. If he was free once more, his sister Allura could come out of hiding and Altea could officially rejoin the war. Of course, they’d have to overthrow the local Galran government on the planet, but that was a battle for another day.

Lance had no idea, but he was important; in his years of captivity, he’d become a symbol, both to the Galran army and the Resistance. To Lotor and his father’s army, he was a symbol of victory, of total subjugation of one of the galaxy’s strongest forces. But to those few bands of resistors who remained, Lance was hope. He’d given his life to spare his planet, to ensure that Galran forces wouldn’t use their quintessence-fueled weapons to simply wipe Altea off the universal map. Instead, by marrying Lotor, Altea lived on—she was forced to endure dreadful conditions, unfortunately, but at least she still stood.

Keith wasn’t sure how much Lance was aware of these days. From what he’d gathered from some of his closest handmaids, he’d spent the first year with Lotor forcibly drugged into complacency. He’d eventually been weaned off of those stronger substances, but the realization of his lot shattered his resolve. Where before he’d fight Lotor and his cruel treatment of staff, now he ignored it, sometimes even went along with it. He was drunk more often than not, and curt, especially to Galra. The only person he showed some regard for was Lotor, though that was likely more to avoid punishment than out of any loyalty, Keith assumed.

He’d already searched the room, finding nothing that could belong to Lance other than some stashed bottles of liquor. He sat at an empty desk while a maid came in to clean up Lance's sickness, not seeming too bothered by it.

“Is he alright?” Keith asked her before she could leave.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “That’s a stupid question, guard boy.”

He glared. “I just want to help him.”

“There’s nothing you can do. You’re both just Lotor’s pets, aren’t you?” she asked. Keith was surprised someone would speak so boldly to him. He didn’t want to do it, but he had an image to uphold. He stood, brandishing his sword; the woman didn’t look impressed.

“I am no pet, maid, I am a soldier. As such, it is my job to look out for Lance. I only wish to know if there’s some way I can better protect him.”

She raised a brow. “Could always kill him, I suppose.”

“What?”

“It’s what he’d want, honestly.”

“Are you threatening—“

She laughed. “You really don’t get why you’re here, do you? Why Lotor wants a personal escort for Lance every second? You don’t find it odd that you have to sleep in the same room as him?” she crossed her arms across her chest. “Hell, I figured everyone in the castle already knew it, it’s hardly a well-kept secret. We’ve been banned from even carrying sharp objects near him, the mirrors in his rooms have been removed…”

Keith shook his head then glanced at the Prince, the one man keeping the Resistance motivated to keep fighting. “You mean… he’s depressed?”

Another laugh, this one more biting. “That’s putting it lightly. Honestly, he’d probably have already offed himself if he wasn’t so gone on drugs and alcohol all the time. He forgets where he is that way—who he is, even.”

“How long have you served him?”

“Since he got here,” she said. “Over four years, and he can’t even remember my name.”

“What is your name?”

“What, you going to report me to Lotor? As if I'd trust a Galra.” With that, she turned and left the room, slamming the door shut with a bang.

Keith sheathed his sword and sat once more. Lance had started snoring lightly, clearly knocked out. Keith figured now would be as good a time as any to call his commander and give his report, as well as inform the Blade of Lance’s current state. If things were really as bad as they seemed, extraction may have to be prioritized, though he would have to convince the Blade that such a move would advantageous to their efforts. Many thought that Lance would make a good bargaining chip while dealing with Lotor, though Keith had never really understood the assumption that Lance could be used to get to Lotor—surely the Galran prince wasn’t that attached to Lance; he only saw him as a toy, so Keith thought.

As instructed, he woke Lance a bit before dinner so he could change and drink. The Prince hadn't made more of an effort to manage his appearance, however, and at dinner time, Keith had to hold Lance upright until they got to the table, his fresh clothes barely masking the effects of his new bottle.

Lotor tutted on seeing his husband, rising to snatch him from Keith’s grasp. He attempted to place Lance in the seat next to his own, but he slumped over. With a sigh, Lotor held him on his lap while he sat.

Keith sat as well, as he’d already been told that he’d be dining with Lance from then on.

“Lance,” Lotor patted his cheek lightly.

“Huh?” he said. “Oh! Lotor!” he smiled brightly before planting a loud kiss to his cheek. “Morning already?”

“It’s dinner time, dear,” he frowned. “You smell like a brothel.”

“I’m hungry,” he groaned.

“I’d imagine so.” Lotor brought a bite of food to Lance’s mouth. He was capable of chewing and swallowing, at least, and so Lotor handed him the fork, observing his clumsy movements for a minute. “Keith,” he said once Lance became more focused on his dinner.

“Yes?” Keith straightened up. Lance chewed loudly across from him, his stare penetrating.

“You are free to eat, of course,” Lotor nodded toward Keith’s untouched plate. “While I wish for you to attend to Lance at all time, when I’m around and able to watch over him, understandably, you may take a break.”

“Right,” he picked up his spoon and started on his soup.

“How was your first day?”

“Well, he slept after brunch, threw up, then slept some more. Er, then we came here. So, not all that eventful.”

“What’d he drink before this?”

“A bottle of wine; it was green. Altean.”

Lotor nodded. “I see. Well, I’ll take him for the rest of the evening. I’d suggest you take the time to move your things as you see fit.”

“Of course, sir.”

“You can pick Lance up tomorrow from breakfast, after which he is not to have any alcohol. We have some important guests coming in and I’d prefer he have his wits about him.”

“I understand.”

“Good. Now, tell me about yourself, Keith. I was very impressed when I read your file—you progressed through the Academy so quickly!”

 

* * *

 

If Keith thought drunk Lance was a pain, he was an absolute delight compared to hungover.

“Fuck this,” the Prince groaned from beneath his pile of blankets.

“Need anything?” Keith asked. “Water? Bread?”

“Some wine would be—“

“Nope.”

Lance cursed. “You’re a demon.” He wiggled around in an attempt to find a comfortable position. “Man, what even happened last night?”

“I’m not sure. Lotor took you after dinner,” he confessed.

He scoffed. “I could’ve guess that much from the state of my ass, thank you very much.”

Keith flushed, not wanting to hear anything about their sex lives.

“I guess I meant what happened this morning? Wait, what time is it? Did I have breakfast?”

“You were there,” Keith said. “Wouldn’t eat anything though. I have a meal for you whenever you’re ready.”

“The thought of food makes me want to jump out a window.” Keith glanced at the windows of the room, noticing they were blocked by crossed iron posts.

“Not an option. Lotor said you’re fine to miss lunch. But, afterwards there’s a meeting you’re to attend, as well as dinner.”

“Oh that’s today, isn’t it? How time flew! Fine, fine. Wake me during lunch. I should shower before I leave.”

“Of course, sir.”

“What was your name again?”

He sighed. “Keith.”

“Right. Cute name. Not very Galran, is it?”

“I suppose not.”

Lance hummed, then said no more. After a few minutes of silence, Keith removed a few layers from Lance’s stack of blankets, giving him some fresh air while he slept.

For just over an hour, Keith sat. He amused himself with some of the books decorating Lance’s shelves, all older tomes that were hardly his taste. The maid from the day before entered with Lance’s laundry and set to placing them in his closet.

“Hello,” Keith said, hoping she wouldn’t snap at him as she had before.

A curt nod. “Hello.” It only took her a minute to put the cleaned clothes in their place and lay out Lance’s next outfit.

Keith cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said.

She shrugged. “No need to be friendly, I can tell it’s not your forte.”

He flushed. “Well, I—“

She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s no bother. My name’s Nyma, by the way. If you ever need help with Lance, if he’s seeming in a bad way, let me know.”

“Alright. Thank you,” he repeated.

“Also, make sure he does a facemask before the meeting, his pores are atrocious.”

“Right… I’ll let him know.”

“Actually, we’ll be back anyway—he needs a haircut and his makeup done, and you seem a bit clueless about all that,” she eyed him up and down, huffing in disappointment. “I’ll just come a bit earlier.”

“That might be best,” Keith sighed. He was a guard, after all, not a beautician.

Another hour passed, and Nyma returned, though she wasn’t alone. Behind her was another alien of her species, Keith guessed, though he wasn’t sure.

“Rolo, this is guard boy. Guard boy, Rolo.”

“It’s Keith, actually.”

She clapped her hands. “Anyway, time to wake up our golden boy!” She ripped the blankets from the bed, laughing on seeing Lance’s unclothed state. “I thought I threw out those ugly underwear!”

Lance started coming to. He sat up and glared at Nyma. “I’d have you fired if you weren’t so pretty.”

“No time for your flirting, your highness. We’ve got to get you into your ceremonial robes.”

He flopped back onto the bed. “Not those dreadful things!”

“Come on, you reek! And I can see your pores from here.”

Lance gasped, reaching for his face. “Fine, fine, you horrid beast.” He scooted till his legs were over the edge of the bed then fell in a pathetic puddle on the floor. “Wait, how about I sleep instead,” he yawned. “I’m tired.”

“All you do is sleep, you lump!” Rolo nudged him with his foot.

“You brought your man, my love?” Lance cried. “I feel betrayed.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know his name, Lance.”

“I don’t know this man,” he sniffed. Finally, he stood, much less shaky and, hopefully, sober. “Who’s that cutie in the corner?” he gestured toward Keith.

“Unimportant. Now, quit making eyes and hop in the shower. God, Lotor uses the worst-smelling detergent, you smell like it.”

Lance shuffled toward his bathroom, gently shutting the door behind him. While he showered, Nyma took to tidying up his room while Rolo removed his sheets and pillowcases.

“He seems better,” Keith noted.

“I suppose he’s a bit more himself than usual. Still annoying as hell, though.”

“Well I'm glad it's not Lotor flirting with you,” Rolo pointed out. “At least you know Lance will never try anything funny.”

She laughed. "As if Lotor would do that anymore—he's positively whipped. He wouldn’t even look anyone else’s way.”

Keith wanted to pry, but he wasn’t sure if it would be suspicious for him to involve himself with the staff. Thankfully, they didn’t mind at all that he was there, and so kept talking as if he wasn’t.

“They’re kinda cute, well, if you’re into…” Rolo trailed off.

“What? Kidnapping and psychological torture?”

“Yeah, that.”

“What’s that one thing called again? When the captor falls for their captive?”

“Hell if I know.”

“Quiznak knows that kind of thing would never end well.”

Rolo chuckled. “It could only end catastrophically.”

 

* * *

 

After Lance's shower, Nyma and Rolo worked to help make him look more “presentable”. Keith thought he looked fine—the stories hadn’t been wrong about his natural beauty, that was for sure, only about the depression and alcohol abuse—but apparently, in addition to his pores, his brows and hair were completely abhorrent and had to be tended to with hot waxes and shears. Keith naturally shirked away when he caught Nyma glaring at his own locks.

They stuffed him into his garments, an elaborate and markedly Altean dress gown, before starting on his makeup. Again, Keith thought it unnecessary: after all, hadn’t they just gone through the trouble of making his natural state look groomed? Why, then, would they cover it up? Lance hardly seemed opposed to the treatment, however, in fact he even helped with applying some of the makeup closer to his eyes.

In the end… well, Keith hardly noticed a difference, but apparently others did; Lotor beamed at his husband, taking his hand and settling him delicately on his own, slightly smaller throne.

“You look lovely, dear,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to Lance’s temple.

“Thank you, my husband,” he smiled back. For a second, Keith swore he saw love in that look.

“Guards,” Lotor called to the men standing by the door. “Let them in, please.”

The doors opened inward with a loud groan. In walked a colonel, based on his uniform, and a face Keith was very familiar with; they were another member of the Blade.

“Colonel,” Lotor nodded. “It’s great to see you, and after a successful mission, no less. Is this the soldier you were telling us about?”

The Blade member was nervous, Keith could tell. He only hoped the others thought it was because he was facing the Prince, not because he had anything to hide.

“Yes, this is him,” the colonel responded. “His quick thinking was critical in helping us secure the Blade’s base on Lunar Colony B9-12.”

Keith felt sweat on his back, but he kept his composure.

“That’s fantastic,” Lotor smiled. “His tip was quite helpful. And, it gave my dear Lance the perfect chance to test out his new weapon.”

The man bowed. “It was an honor to see his strategy come to fruition, sir.”

“A shame, then,” Lance leaned forward. “That the base was completely abandoned.”

The man tensed. “I was confident, sir, that there would have been people there.”

“Yes, very confident up until I changed the plans, wasn’t he?” Lance directed the question to Lotor, who smirked and nodded. “But, as soon as _my_ plan was suggested instead of the standard capture protocol, you got a little nervous, didn’t you?”

“It was a bold plan, sir, risky for our men to divert from the usual formation. But I never doubted you! Er, sir.”

He laughed. “There's always risk in war. We can afford a few lives if it means taking out the Resistance, can’t we?”

“Of course, sir! I didn’t mean to disrespect Lord Zarkon!”

“But you did disrespect me,” Lance spat. “When you told the Blade of our plans.”

The man’s eyes widened, and he raised his arms. “Sir, I swear I did no such thing! I only serve the empire!”

“You ruined my strategy!” Lance stood, his lithe form appearing much more intimidating and domineering as he approached the man. “I spent my whole life studying war; my plans have brought many victories to Zarkon. You questioned me, an offense in and off itself, and on top of that, you betrayed us for those Blade scum?”

Lotor and the Colonel only watched as Lance grabbed the man by his shirt.

“There is no place for traitors in Zarkon’s army. If I had gotten that base… we could’ve found all the others. We would’ve dealt the final blow to the Resistance! And our absolute strength would’ve been broadcasted all through the cosmos!” He threw the man to the ground, raising his fist. Quintessence crackled around his fingers, forming a bright, golden orb. “You’re going to regret not running back to them while you had the chance. I’ll have plenty of fun rooting around your brain for information,” he chuckled. “So, would you like to do this the easy way, or the hard way?”

“Fuck you!” the man yelled, all pretense of loyalty gone. “The Blade will win! You’re nothing but a traitor to your people! To Allura!”

Lance screamed and shot his bolt at the man. The man cried out in pain.

“Don’t you dare say her name,” he spat, preparing another bolt.

“Lance, dear,” Lotor said. “I think you should take him to the dungeon before things get too… messy.”

Lance’s breathing was ragged, but he nodded his head. “Very well. Guards!” the tending guards rushed over and picked up the man. “I’ll take care of him later. As for you, Colonel,” he raised his hand and shot the man, straight through the heart. The Colonel fell over, still alive, but barely, Keith wagered by the size of the wound. “What kind of incompetent _idiot_  lets a member of the _Blade_ have so much authority in his army? You’re just as much a blight as the damn traitor.”

As the man lay dying, Lotor stood and joined Lance’s side.

“Thank you, Lance, for taking care of things.”

“They ruined everything,” he pouted. “I worked so hard on this, and now it’s ruined!”

Lotor drew his head against his chest, cooing lightly. “Don’t cry, love, you’ll have your chance to crush the Blade, I swear it. Now, will a visit to Haggar help cheer you up?”

He nodded weakly. “I got a glimpse when I struck him; I think he knows a bit about Voltron.”

Lotor smiled. “Excellent. Now, let’s see what we can take from his brain, alright?” Turning to Keith, he nodded. “You’re excused for the day, Keith. Lance will be with me.”

“Uh, yes sir.”

Lance stood on his tiptoes and placed a soft kiss to Lotor’s lips. There was a splash of blood on his cheek, and Lotor wiped it off with his thumb, which Lance took into his mouth with a giggle. They left the room, hands intertwined.

Keith returned to Lance’s room in silence, completely shocked. His job was to rescue Lance, wasn’t it? To restore the Altean prince to his home?

But that was no prince. That man was nothing short of a monster.


	2. Chapter 2

As much as he hated the monotony of the post, Shiro was glad that he was manning the comms station when another call from Keith came in. He’d called recently, so another so soon was unexpected. Still, it was very much welcome to hear from his friend. He answered with a smile.

The screen was blank, and the microphones picked up the sounds of shuffling. Shiro immediately felt suspicious.

“Hello, this is Red,” Keith said, using his code name.

“Black, here,” Shiro replied. The screen shifted, and he was granted a much-too close view of Keith’s face.

Keith sighed loudly. “Am I happy to see you. Look, I’ve got some crazy news, and I’m not sure where to start.”

“Just pick up where you left off yesterday,” Shiro instructed, pulling up the notes from the last transmission. “About Lance. You said his fragile mental state might necessitate an earlier extraction, right?”

“Yeah, forget that. That man does not need to be extracted! More like executed!”

“Excuse me?” A few other soldiers turned their heads at the outburst. Shiro switched the sound to his headphones. It would be recorded and reviewed by others later, of course, but he thought it best not to cause a panic before he could get some details. “Explain.”

“He just killed two people!” Keith hissed. “A Blade, and a Galran colonel!”

“A Blade’s down? Who?”

“I can’t remember his name, but he was in my year at the Academy. He’s the one that tipped off our base before the quintessence canon blew the moon out of existence!”

“Rath,” he supplied. “He exposed himself in giving that tip, but if he hadn’t, many of us would’ve died. But, what’s this have to do with Lance?”

“It was his damn idea to use the canon!”

“What? I thought you said he was a drunkard.”

“Well, apparently Lotor trusts him enough to invite him into war councils! Galra hasn’t used planetary annihilation tactics like that in decades! But, at Lance’s suggestion, they did!”

“Do you know this for certain?”

“He was upset that it didn’t kill anyone, then he attacked Rath for it.”

“Is he dead?”

“Not yet, but he’s with Haggar now.”

“Lance attacked him? How?”

“He’s tapped into his powers, it seems.”

Shiro cursed. “Another Druid on their side? ...Perhaps it’s just an act to get Lotor to trust him.”

Keith shook his head. “I don’t know. They seem… in love, almost. The maids mentioned it too, that the two are closer than we’d thought.”

“I don’t want to make any assumptions as to Lance. The Queen won’t allow us to leave him there, regardless.”

“What should I do?”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” Shiro said. “Maybe we can get a better understanding of Lance and his motivations. He’ll be a much tougher target to rescue if he actually sympathizes with Lotor. But, regardless, he’ll be coming with us when the time comes, be it willingly or not.”

“I suppose if he’s unwilling, at least there’s a chance Lotor will actually listen to our demands. If they're actually in love, I mean.”

“The Queen won’t take kindly to Lance being an actual hostage.”

“I won’t take kindly to him killing any more of us.” Keith crossed his arms. “I can’t get a read on him. One second he hates Lotor, the next he’s sappy with him; he flirts with the maids, then kills a man in cold blood. I don’t think he’s in his right mind.”

“It’s only been a few days,” Shiro reasoned. “It’ll take a bit longer to get to know him. Is there anything else you need? Backup?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t even wanna know what would happen if they discovered my position.”

“Where is Lance now?”

“He and Lotor went to Haggar to… interrogate Rath…”

“Alright. I’ve already sent out the notice of Rath’s capture. All his associates will know to lay low just in case they get anything out of him.”

“They will,” Keith sighed. “Lance said something… he thought Rath may know about Voltron? Is that true?”

Shiro’s brow furrowed. “I wasn’t under the impression that he had enough clearance for that.”

“I figured… I thought it strange.”

“Given your position, it may be best for us to keep this call brief.”

“Of course. I’ll try to call soon.”

“Be safe, Red.”

“You got it, dad.”

“Not an approved code-name, but alright,” Shiro chuckled, ending the transmission.

Keith slipped the communicator into his boot. Looking around the empty room, he realized that he was going to be bored for some time. He was free until the next day, after all, but without making sure Lance wasn’t about to choke on his own drink-induced vomit, there wasn’t much to do. There was nothing else he could learn from Lance’s rooms, either, as he’d already searched the place thoroughly.

He decided to head off the grounds to the barracks, hoping he’d be allowed to do so. The guards at the gate had no problem with it, nodding as he continued the short journey to his old comrades.

They greeted him cordially; he hadn’t exactly been popular back when he’d joined them, he knew, but he had a group that he liked to spar with. As far as he knew, there weren’t any other Blade members in the guard, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t there and just not made known to him. The Blade had to take every precaution in case any one agent was compromised.

He distracted himself for a few hours well enough, then figured it was best for him to get back and rest. Knowing that Lance wouldn’t be back, he didn’t make any effort to keep quiet when he entered.

“Hello?” Lance said.

Keith stumbled a bit in surprise, then his eyes widened. “Oh, hello, your majesty. I didn’t think you’d be back.”

“Yes, well, I’m a bit dull after I use too much of my magic, so I insisted that Lotor and I sleep apart.”

“I see." He noticed a small bottle in Lance's hand. "What are you drinking?”

“Just a sleeping draught, I assure you. I may have to take a bit of a break from the drink. My magic’s shit when I’m on it.”

“If it’s for your safety, then I’ll make sure you stay off it.”

“Thanks,” he smiled—he suddenly looked young, and Keith was struck with the memory that Lance was his age, only eighteen. They’d both been born into this war, though fate forced them down drastically different roads. “It was… oh, I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.”

“Keith,” he supplied.

“Right. Never heard that name before.”

Keith cleared his throat. “I apologize for barging in. I’ll take my leave and stand guard outside.”

“Oh, it’s fine. You can stay for a spell. We should probably get to know each other a bit now that we’ll be working together. I can’t imagine I’ve been pleasant company these past days. Trust me, you haven’t seen the worst of it, though hopefully things won’t get that bad again.”

Keith shuffled awkwardly toward a bench that faced the bed. He removed his sword and stood it against the arm. “You’re… different than I imagined.”

Lance smirked. “More handsome, surely?” He laughed at Keith’s uncomfortable flush. “Well, my life’s a bit different than I imagined, I must say.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”

He waved his hand. “Oh, I don’t mind. People come from all over the galaxy to get a look at me, at Lotor’s prize. Many are disappointed with what they see,” he frowned and started picking at a string in his duvet’s embroidery. “Well, Lotor was never disappointed, of course. He’s always been so pleased to have me around.”

Keith wasn’t sure if he believed it, but Lance sure seemed to. “You two seem very… sweet,” he cringed at the word.

“He’s a kind man,” Lance smiled. “I was scared, initially, but he trained me not to be afraid.”

Keith made a mental note of that wording. He was hardly a psychologist, but it seemed important. His curiosity urged him to press, but he wanted Lance to trust him, and he knew any overly probing questions might set him off. “We Galra have always respected equality in partnerships, you know.”

Lance tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that, in marriage, no matter the status of the individuals when separate, together, they are seen as equal. I see that Lotor thinks highly of your opinion.”

The Prince beamed. “Is that right? I’ve never met any other Galra couples. That’s an honorable tradition. Even on Altea, the men held a bit more power than the women. Or, if a royal were to marry a commoner, the commoner would never have a right to the throne. If anything were to happen to Lotor, I’d be given his post without question, he says, even if I am just a commoner.”

“A… a commoner?”

He nodded. “Of course, I was a prince before, but what’s a title from a captured planet worth?”

“I see. I’d imagine you’d make a great leader. Your tactical knowledge is impressive.”

“That’s kind of you to say. You know, I’m going to let you in on a little secret.”

“Alright.”

“When I first came here, I was so confused—why me? I thought, why would Lotor choose me? I was nothing special, not the heir to the throne, too young really, to be found attractive as... as a husband”—again, he focused on unexpected aspects of the situation, almost as if he found the whole thing… romantic—“I wasn’t very confident in myself—I mean, growing up in Allura’s shadow, how could I be? That Lotor had picked me, I found it so strange.

“There was only one thing that I was better at than Allura, and that was strategy. Tactics, that kind of thing. Lotor said he knew it when he first met me at the meeting held to discuss the alliance; he could see in my eyes how enraged I was with our military failures. He’d overheard me talking with my father, he said, and thought that my mind was brilliant. He tells everyone that he married me for my beauty, but everyone knows he could’ve gotten that from Allura. He picked me, though, over my perfect sister,” Keith flinched at the sudden venom in Lance’s words. “For my mind. And every day he listens to me, and he follows my words, something no one else had ever done before! Even though he’s a prince, soon to be king of the known universe, he listens to me, a commoner!” He laughed. “It’s incredible. He’s incredible.”

“You still study the subject often, then?” Keith asked.

“Of course, I’ve read thousands of books and historical accounts. I wouldn’t claim to know everything there is to know about war and diplomacy, but I’m confident in my ability.”

“That’s very impressive. It’s no wonder the armies trust your judgment.”

Lance nodded. “They didn’t at first, but Lotor got rid of the mean ones.” Given his elevated speech habits, Keith was surprised by the childish word-choice. “Now they all listen to me. It’s really fun seeing things come together!”

“What else did you help with?” Keith asked.

“I started small, simple formations on the ground for capturing resisting cities on colonized planets. Balmura, Sleen, Altea even. Sleen, that was a long one that eventually took to the skies. Space battles are my favorite, you know, very high risk with each move! Anyway, I think the empire calls the victory of Sleen ‘Day of Silence’, if I remember correctly.” His sigh was almost dreamy.

Keith paled, though he hoped Lance couldn’t see it. “It was a highly lauded tactical victory. Most assumed it had been Lotor’s planning.”

Lance laughed. “Lotor’s more a diplomat than anything. He’d make a horrible soldier. I’d imagine that, in another life, I’d make a mighty fine general rather than a prince,” he leaned against his pillows. “I’ve never even flown anything, though. Still, leagues better than my husband at this kind of thing. He’d be lost without me! I swear, the first few councils I sat in on were a shit-show! Thanks to me, however, they’ve gotten their act together!”

Was it true? Keith thought. He knew Galra’s attack frequency had increased since Altea fell, but he’d assumed it had been due to the loss of Altean support. Was Lance responsible for all this? For the slaughter of billions? Yet he was so detached from it all, merely moving around battalions as easily as one would move a playing piece in a board game—did he understand the breadth of his actions?

“Of course,” Lance continued. “Being this involved has its downsides. It makes it hard to deal with so many idiots in the ranks. Like that colonel, today! What a dolt!”

Keith nodded. “It is surprising that the traitor was able to do so much for the Resistance without getting caught.”

“It’s a disgrace!” Lance yelled, dropping his fist on his bed. It may have been threatening against a table rather than a flower-encrusted throw pillow. “We need more soldiers like you, you know!”

“Me?” he asked. Lance couldn’t even remember his name, what did he think he knew about him?

“Loyal, of course. The type who don’t question, they just _do_ what they’re told. Like you. Not a rebellious bone in your body. Hell, I’d hate to have your job. You’re nothing but a glorified babysitter. But, you do it, and you do it without complaint. That’s admirable.”

“I… thank you?”

“Of course,” Lance smiled, leaning back deeper into his pillows. “Ah, I think the medicine is kicking in. Wake me for breakfast, will you? I feel so much more energized without all the drink!”

“Yes, your highness,” Keith stood and gave a small bow before taking his post in the hallway.

 

* * *

 

In the next few days, every time Keith thought he was getting closer to figuring Lance out, he’d do something completely out of character and ruin his current working theory. The only constant was Lance's behavior around Lotor—he was always doting and affectionate. Behind closed doors, however, occasionally he’d let a harsh insult slip through, as he had their first day together. Keith couldn’t discern which was his real attitude breaking through years of “training” and which was the façade. He’d started leaning toward the façade being the “Lotor saved me from a life of being ignored” bit, given Lance’s tendency to repeat certain phrases obsessively. He also seemed to have a disdain for all things Altean, his family included, and got either very quiet or very violent when either were brought up. Although Keith hardly wanted Lance going back to drinking, his words then seemed more truthful, though his temperament was wretched.

But, then Lance would do something like praise Lotor’s beauty before attacking his mouth at the dinner table while Keith just wanted to eat his meal in peace, and it would seemed so genuine that he would become lost all over again. His talks with Shiro usually just ended in a psychology lecture, even though he wasn’t trying to become Lance’s private therapist.

It was very tiring, to say the least, putting up with all this back and forth while trying to keep his cover. It became especially difficult when Lotor started requesting frequent reports, claiming that he was concerned for Lance’s well-being. Between those, his correspondences with the Blade, his late nights spent chatting with Lance about any and everything, and his free time spent keeping in shape, Keith was working himself to the bone.

He finally got a chance to rest when Lotor announced that he and Lance were to be taking a few days-long trip to a quaint, beach-speckled planet to celebrate their fifth anniversary. Lance was beside himself with excitement, while Keith just felt blessed to have a break.

After sleeping half a day away, he remembered just how boring his job was when the main objective of his job was lightyears away. He knew the best thing to do would be to train, or maybe to consult his notes on the mission, but he decided not to do either of those things. Instead, against the best wishes of his very being, he chose to _socialize_.

Of course, he had to go about it in a nonchalant way. So, he pretended to be dozing off in Lance’s room until Nyma or Rolo came along to fetch the laundry. Sure enough, Nyma came in just before lunch, as she usually did. She smiled at him, their exchanges having warmed up slightly in the past week.

“Morning, Keith,” she said. “Enjoying your days off?”

“I’m bored more than anything,” he sighed, hoping he sounded casual.

She laughed. “Well, if you’re really bored, why don’t you come help us with some chores?”

It was almost too easy, he thought. “I don’t see why not,” he smiled.

Keith was plenty used to menial labor, he was a soldier after all, so he didn’t mind the folding and the hanging of clothes much. Things were very lively in the servants' quarters, much more so than in the rest of the castle.

As he’d hoped for, Nyma and Rolo were working but also eager to talk. So, Keith naturally asked them about Lance.

He cleared his throat. “Lance seems like he’s getting better, doesn’t he?”

Oddly enough, they frowned. While Rolo got back to work without a word, Nyma set down her sheet, pouting slightly. “It’s… complicated.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Well… before you were assigned, Lance had been like you’d seen him at first. It’d been months, I think. We’d try to help him out when we could, hide things from Lotor. He didn’t seem to mind all that much, though. It made Lance pliable, like he was in the beginning.”

“In the beginning?”

“When he first came here, he resisted Lotor for a bit, naturally. But, Lotor was never cruel with him, never hit him or yelled. He lulled Lance into a sense of security. But, the kid was being fed drugs every damn day to make him less… vivid,” Nyma continued. “Eventually, Lance started believing that he was in love with Lotor, and he didn’t need all the drugs. From then, they were sickeningly sweet; but, Lotor had his mind games. He’d fill Lance’s head with lies about Altea and Allura—I think he honestly thinks she’s dead—and about how no one else would ever treat him the way he does, like a prince.”

The drugs, Keith had already heard about, but the mind games were new. “I see.”

“I think there are times when Lance remembers things, remembers what happened and that he shouldn’t be here… that’s when he chooses to drink. And, he seems to be falling back into one of those periods, which is why we're worried. His 'getting better' is usually just the beginning of a larger spiral.”

“Another thing... when he’s confused, he’ll try and seek out things that are under his control. That's why he's been trying to get more involved with council affairs and jumping Lotor at every chance,” Rolo added.

“Does… does everyone know this?”

Nyma shrugged. “Maybe not the ‘why’ of it all, but most of us here have seen the effects of Lance’s varying moods. Drunk Lance is almost preferred, because he just sleeps the day away instead of ordering people around or…”

“Or what?”

“Well, it’s rather awful,” she began. “You see, there are a few Altean slaves on board. There are times when Lance is very anti-Galran, and times when he’s very anti-Altean. Of course, he can’t safely act on any anti-Galran thoughts, but the anti-Altean ones… he’s almost encouraged to do so.”

“What does he do?”

“I’m sure you can figure it out for yourself.”

There were a few seconds of silence before Rolo interjected. “But, what’s the big deal, anyway? Who cares how the Altean boy is faring here? So long as Lotor is happy with his pet, that’s all that matters!”

“Right!” Nyma said, rather unconvincingly. “He’s just a drop in the bucket, isn’t he?”

“Of course,” Keith agreed. “So long as he doesn’t die on my watch, it hardly matters.”

 

* * *

 

He couldn’t explain why, but Keith was thrilled to see Lance; the rows and rows of laundry could only satisfy him for so long. He didn’t make a show of it, as he wasn’t one for public affection, even had Lotor not been around when the ship docked.

Lance was smiling, but something about it seemed… off. Lotor, too, didn’t have his usual cocky smirk, but a more thoughtful frown.

“Keith, I hope there’s a bath waiting for me in my room. Lotor forced me to _hike_ ,” Lance shivered. “Outside.”

Keith bowed lightly. “Nyma is drawing one right now."

“I’ll see you both at dinner,” Lotor said, kissing the back of Lance’s hand. “Have a pleasant day, love.”

“Right back at you,” Lance smiled. That was weird, Keith thought. His flirting with Lotor was usually… different. That was almost like how he’d more casually flirt with Nyma or Keith.

Lance quickly made his way to Keith’s side, and the pair headed toward his chambers without a word.

Lance shed his coat and clothes quickly, keeping his underwear on until he was in the privacy of his bathroom. Keith stood at the ready just outside, listening for anything suspicious, which he supposed would simply be the absence of anything entirely. But, for the whole half hour there was the sound of splashes and ripples and bottles being dropped and muted curses, so he had nothing to worry about.

Still, when Lance exited the bathroom, instead of looking fresh-faced and ready-for-the-day as he often did after a bath, he looked positively weary.

“Are you alright?” Keith asked.

“I’m tired. I may take a nap for a bit, if you don’t mind.”

“That’s not a problem. Are you sure you don’t need anything? Food or medicine?”

“Could I trouble you for some wine?”

Keith shook his head. “I don’t think that will help.”

“Please?” his voice broke on the lone word. “I can’t… I just... can’t. I just need _something_ to drink.”

“Alright, um… you have some around here don’t you?”

Lance nodded. “Left bottom drawer of my bureau.” He flopped back on his bed, his hands covering his face. Keith fetched a bottle, not sure which would be preferred but figuring any damn thing would do at the moment. He brought it over to Lance’s bedside, not sure where a bottle opener would be.

He didn’t need one, it seemed, as Lance simply twisted off the cap—from what little experience Keith had with wine, he knew that meant it wasn’t the nicest label.

Lance took a large pull, gulping once, twice, three times, before placing the bottle on his nightstand with a large sigh.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” Keith cursed his awkward nature.

Lance chuckled. “It’s just… it's been a long time since I’ve been alone with him for so long. Brought back some… things.”

“Right…”

“I just… I can’t be here anymore. I can’t live like this.” Another long swig.

Keith wasn’t sure if he meant he couldn’t live in general, or just with Lotor.

“Do you need anything? Besides liquor?”

“Here, you should have some too, Keith,” Lance quickly changed the subject and pushed the bottle toward his guard.

“I don’t think I should be drinking on the job.”

“Oh, hush. You can simply say… you were making sure it wasn’t poisoned, or something, if anyone asks!”

Keith took a quick sip and winced—it was disgusting. “I’m a pretty poison-checker seeing as I took a drink after you.”

Lance laughed, a welcome sound in Keith’s ears. “Come on, you have to catch up! Actually, go get the other bottles before you get too drunk. It’ll be easier.”

“How much are you intending to drink?” he sighed, crossing the room back to the desk.

“Not just me... both of us! That way, it’s not a problem.”

“Well, the first step is admitting you have a problem,” he teased.

He returned and was immediately forced into taking another handful of gulps in order to “get on Lance’s level”.

Satisfied that they were even, Lance scooted back on his bed, patting the emptied space. “Sit down, you’re making me uncomfortable!”

Keith chuckled before hopping onto the bed.

“So, let me tell you about my trip! We went to the most gorgeous planet I’d ever seen…”

It was probably the wine getting to him—Lance wasn’t that funny—but throughout the story, Keith found himself genuinely laughing and, amazingly enough, enjoying himself. He didn’t even notice until they’d finished off the three bottles—Lance having had more, of course—that an hour had passed. 

Lance sighed, content, as he nestled into his pillows. “That was fun. You’re funner when drunk, Keith.”

“I’m a fun guy,” he insisted.

“Right,” Lance rolled his eyes, smiling. Keith was looking down on him, propped up by one arm, but that came to an end with a simple yank. Now they were both laughing, laying on the prince’s large bed, decidedly tipsy. “Just how fun of a guy are you, Keith?”

“Once, I attended a party,” he said. Lance’s hand found its way to his hip.

“A party? Well, those are certainly known to be attended by fun people.”

“Another time, I hosted my own party.” He was pulled closer by his belt.

“You’re a regular entertainer!” Lance smiled, his thumb tracing circles idly on Keith’s hip. It was a tickling sensation, and Keith twitched, unintentionally bringing them closer.

This was most definitely not the mission, a part of Keith’s mind screamed. Hell, he’d never even really looked at Lance in that way! There was Lotor, for one, and the fact that Lance wasn’t truly himself—did either of them even know who he was supposed to be? Add onto that how much the war did not need the Resistance’s sole symbol of hope to be sullied by an agent of Marmora.

But, a stronger part of him was louder. A part that couldn’t stop looking at Lance’s lips, or his flushed cheeks, or his hooded eyes. A part that was absolutely fascinated by this enigma of a man. A part that was inching ever closer to the prince he could never have. A part that didn’t give a damn and forced him forward to finally connect their lips in a searing kiss.   


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please check out the updated tags!

Given the early hour, Keith and Lance were forced to part rather unceremoniously, not a single trace of romance between them as Lance slipped out from under his rumpled comforter.

“I’ll shower first,” Lance said. Keith nodded.

While the prince cleaned himself up, Keith laid back, just thinking. He was coming down from his drunkenness, the act they’d just performed sobering him as well. Or, he thought when he rolled off the bed to his feet and almost stumbled, perhaps he was still a bit affected by the alcohol.

But, he chided, even with all the drink, there was no excuse for what he’d just done. What did he think would come of this? It was clear to anyone that Lance was not at all in any place to be pursuing a relationship—be it romantic or strictly physical. As if the fact that him being a spy wasn’t dangerous enough, now he’d gone and slept with an enemy general’s spouse?

After they both cleaned up, they headed downstairs for dinner. Lance helped himself to a generous serving of liquor while he nibbled at his food, and Lotor didn’t seem to mind; in fact, he almost seemed relieved that Lance was back to his “old self”, the worry lines on his face melting away as the meal progressed. Meanwhile, Keith tried to keep his own face neutral, though his head and heart were quite affected. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to avoid conversation for too long.

“Keith,” Lotor began.

“Yes, your highness?”

“I haven’t had the chance to ask: how were things while we were gone?”

He cleared his throat. “They were fine. I spent most of my time with some of the staff.”

“Never a break for you, then?” he chuckled.

“I don’t enjoy sitting around doing nothing, frankly, and without Lance here, I was rather bored.”

“Lance does have a way of livening things up around here, doesn’t he?” he smiled at his husband, squeezing his hand softly. Lance failed to return the gaze. “I believe things will be a bit more interesting from now on,” he continued.

“Sir?”

“We’ve been docked for quite a long time, longer than previously anticipated. But, the front line is moving as we gain more and more territory, so it’s necessary for the castle-ship to take the skies once more so we can more efficiently communicate with the soldiers.”

“You’ve probably never seen such an impressive ship launch before, have you, Keith?” Lance asked, speaking for the first time that meal.

Having lived in Princess Allura’s own ship-castle hybrid for a few years, he had. “No, I haven’t.”

“With the travel comes some added risks, of course. Lance and I will be hosting numerous other Galra ships for meetings, celebrations, and the like. I’d much prefer having you with us at all times when we do, since Lance has grown so comfortable around you.”

“Of course, sir. I’d be honored.”

“Excellent. We launch tomorrow morning, then. I advise you both to rest up, as it can be disorienting to operate without natural day and night cycles. We will be using a time tracking system that has slightly longer cycles than this planet.”

“Understood.”

“A bulk of the guard will be with us, of course, though they will be flying alongside us in private battle cruisers. We doubt anyone would be stupid enough to strike,” Lotor chuckled. “But we’d be ready for it if so, even if the Resistance had somehow managed to get Voltron, or something outlandish like that.

“While I’m aware of your flight skills, Keith, you’ll remain on board even in the case of an emergency. Should an evacuation be necessary, you will be responsible for flying Lance to our designated drop point.”

He nodded.

Lance stood. “Lotor, honey, I’m getting tired.”

“It’s quite early,” he commented. Lotor was still picking at his food, while Lance had barely touched his. “I have some calls to make as well.”

He pouted, crossing his arms. “Well, it’s not that I intend to sleep.”

“Ah,” Lotor nodded knowingly. “Would you mind waiting in my room, then, till I’m done? It shouldn’t be too long.”

“Fine, fine,” he waved a hand. “Am I allowed to walk there on my own?” he spat. Keith hadn’t been expecting him to fall into a mood, but Lance was clearly upset.

“That’s fine. I need to speak with Keith privately anyway.”

With a huff, Lance turned and marched out of the too-large dining room. Once the door shut behind him, Lotor sighed.

“Are you alright, sir?” Keith asked.

“Has Lance been acting... differently lately?”

“I can’t say that I’ve noticed anything till now,” he lied. “Maybe… he seems distant?”

“I’ve noticed that too. I fear I may have upset him during our trip.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s no worry, he gets like this sometimes. I’ll just give him some space, and if that doesn’t work… well, there are other means.”

“Sir?”

“I must ask that you watch him ever more closely after we launch. He is already a danger to himself and others when we’re landed, but as you know, space travel has its own added risks. I’ll give you a list of escape pod locations as well as external access points; it’s imperative that he doesn’t go anywhere near these spots. You understand?”

“You think he would flee?”

“I like to hope that he wouldn't. Lance may seem strong, but he has grown dependent on me and the comforts he has here. Still... I can’t guarantee anything, so it’s just a precaution.”

“I’ll do as you ask.”

Lotor nodded. “Thank you. You’re a good man, Keith.”

 

* * *

 

By the time Lance had returned from Lotor’s the next morning, the ship had already launched. Keith had watched from the observation deck, and it was an admittedly impressive sight. On his walk back, he bumped into Nyma who eyed him oddly—he wasn’t sure what that was about.

Back in the room, Lance was fussing over an outfit in front of the mirror.

“Oh, Keith!” he smiled. “Thank goodness you’re here. Can you help with my cape?” he gestured toward a swath of rich purple fabric draped over his chair. Keith stepped to it, guiding it toward Lance’s shoulders and clipping it in place. “How’s it look?” he asked.

“You look fine.”

Lance laughed. “I always look fine. I meant the outfit.”

“Oh,” Keith tore his gaze from Lance’s cheery face to take in the robe. It reminded him of Lotor’s usual outfit, a light-armored suit in the traditional Galran style. “I can’t say it suits you well.”

Lance pouted. “It looks bad?”

“I simply think your usual dress style looks better on you. The whites and blues really compliment your eyes and skin.”

“Is that so?” he frowned at the mirror. “You’re right, of course,” he hummed. “But, Lotor likes for me to look a bit more like a warrior when we meet with other Galran officers. It’s confusing, to be frank: some days he wants me to look Altean, 'exotic' and decorative. But, other times he wants me to appear fully assimilated to Galran style.”

“You met with the general the other day and dressed normally, didn’t you?”

“Well, that was only because I was going to kill him, so it hardly mattered what I looked like.”

“...Right.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Why would it? He and the traitor were worthless. They didn’t deserve to follow Zarkon.”

Lance nodded. “That’s right. Lotor didn’t even  want to kill the colonel, despite his shortcomings! He’s too merciful sometime.”

“Are you feeling better?”

“Pardon?”

“You seemed… angry yesterday.”

“Oh, well, it was probably the alcohol. I’m honestly still a bit hungover—I drank a bit more while Lotor attended to his business. I may have passed out before he even returned.” He spun around, facing Keith fully. “Would you mind stepping out for a moment? I wish to change.”

“Of course,” he bowed before leaving the room. He leaned against the wall and counted the seconds, careful not to give Lance enough time to do anything funny. After a few minutes, he knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Lance said.

Keith obeyed, regretting it instantly. “Prince Lance!” he flushed, looking away. “This is hardly appropriate dress.”

“Oh?” Lance smiled innocently. He was laying on the bed, clad in only his underwear—though it was far from traditional coverings, from what Keith could tell. “Close the door, would you?”

Keith did, but still kept his back turned. “Would you mind putting on some clothes?”

“Nope,” Keith could hear the smirk in his voice. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen, Keith.”

“Technically, I couldn't see too much yesterday. You turned the lights down.”

“I did?”

Keith nodded.

“Well, that’s odd. Come here.”

“I don’t think it’s wise.”

“Are you afraid we’ll get caught?”

“Among other things.”

“You’re very attractive, Keith. I like you a good deal, oddly enough.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“Of course! I don’t tend to interact with the help.”

Keith turned, glaring. “If you intend to treat me like some toy—“

Lance held out his hand. “It’s not like that! I swear! It’s just… when I look at you… I feel… something?”

“A compelling point. Now I’ll surely jump into bed with the man whose husband is paying me to protect him.”

Lance chuckled. “I’m sorry, I’m not too good with words. Lotor doesn’t really… I mean, it’s not like I have much choice but to be kind to him. My courting skills may be lacking.”

Despite his suspicion, Keith walked toward the bed. He took Lance’s hand but remained standing.

Lance continued. “ _You_ were the one who kissed _me_ , you know.”

“It’s not as if you weren’t dropping hints, dragging me into bed while drunk.”

“But you wanted me, didn’t you?”

Keith turned his head. “How could I not?”

Lance grinned, tugging at his hand. “And I want you. How convenient.”

“It’s not professional. I’m too replaceable.”

“Don’t say that,” Lance shook his hand. “You were selected for a reason, you know. Don’t take that for granted.”

“Regardless, it’s my life at stake here, not yours.”

“You underestimate Lotor’s pride. I’d be killed, too, if he found out.”

“Then we shouldn’t go down this road again. It was a mistake.”

Lance rubbed the back of Keith’s hand with his thumb. “I see. You really think that?”

“I do.”

He sniffed. “Then I apologize. I thought… I mean… yesterday—you didn’t feel anything?”

“It was simply pleasure, sir.” Keith pulled his hand away, as much as it pained him to do so. Even worse was the look of hurt on Lance’s face.

“Of course. I don’t want to pressure you, so please don’t think that this will affect your post.”

“Lance,” he sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. Lance sat up, and Keith pulled him close in an embrace. “It’s just not a good situation. We’re strangers, still. And you’re my superior. My _married_ superior, at that.”

“It’s not like I asked to be married to him.” He nuzzled against the crook of Keith’s neck.

Keith patted his shoulder soothingly. “I know.” He placed a quick kiss to Lance’s temple.

“I feel as if I can trust you, Keith, though I don’t know why. I want to tell you things, things I’ve never told anyone else.” He leaned back so he could slip out of the bed. He bent over to pick up a robe and stuck his arms through its holes before tying it around his waist. “But, I’m not stupid. What I have to say… it would put both of us at risk.”

Could Keith use this to his advantage? he asked himself. Was Lance snapping out of his forced infatuation with Lotor? If so, he could prove to be an asset to the Blade, no longer just an inconsequential figurehead. “You can trust me, Lance.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “You are loyal to Lotor. To Zarkon. You’ve served them for years, yet you’ve known me only a few weeks. I’ve been nothing but cruel to you. You probably think me mad.”

Keith stood, crossing the few feet to stand behind him. He wrapped his arms around the prince, resting his head on top of Lance’s. It was a risk, he knew: Lance could have been testing him on Lotor’s behalf, testing his loyalty to his true master. He told himself that his decision had nothing to do with his feelings, but he knew the truth. Shiro would have his head for his recklessness—of course, he’d only know if Keith’s gamble actually paid off. “You're not cruel or mad. Not to me. You can trust me,” he repeated. “I’m loyal to you, I swear it.”

Lance turned, still in Keith’s arms as he looked up. Keith rubbed at the pink marks on his cheeks. “If we’d met under other circumstances, would you consider giving us a try?”

Keith nodded—it was just his cover talking, not him, he insisted. “Of course, Lance. I care about you. I want to see you happy.”

“And if Lotor weren’t here?”

“Then I wouldn’t stop till I had you.”

Lance smiled. “I believe you—god it’s stupid, we’re going about this all wrong, aren’t we? It’s so fast.”

“It’s perfect.” Keith was almost convincing himself—and Shiro said he was bad at undercover ops. “You’re perfect.”

“Then let’s do it,” Lance kissed Keith’s jaw, his cheek, then his lips. He pulled back. “Let’s kill Lotor.”

Keith tensed; he certainly hadn’t expected that. “Uh…”

Lance frowned. He pushed against Keith’s chest, confusion evident on his face. Keith refused to release him, instead responding by crashing his lips against Lance’s.

He returned the kiss with vigor, pressing against Keith till his knees met the back of the bed. Keith fell back, pulling Lance on top of him.

“I assume this is you saying ‘yes’?” he laughed.

“Yes,” Keith breathed, yanking Lance close for another kiss.

It was just the mission, he repeated to himself. It didn’t mean anything.

He moaned as Lance worked his hand between them, stroking him through his clothes. Lance smirked against his neck.

A knock on the door broke them from their reverie. Without a word, the intruder entered.

In the doorway, Nyma froze. Then, she shook her head.

“Quiznak, again?” she dropped Lance’s laundered clothes just inside the door. “Learn to lock the door, you idiots.” She turned and slammed the door behind her.

Embarrassed and more than a little paranoid, Keith followed her advice, standing to lock the door. He returned to Lance’s side, kissing him gently. Lance returned the kiss, their movements slower and less heated than before.

They stopped and simply laid and faced each other. Lance was smiling—brighter than Keith had ever seen; he couldn’t help but return the look.

“I don’t really know much about relationships,” Lance confessed. “My… experiences are a bit… special,” he chuckled dryly. “I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you, though.”

“I would never. And, I’ll admit, I’ve never had much time for a relationship myself, so I’ll make a lot of mistakes.”

“We’ll learn together, then,” Lance smiled.

“Of course,” Keith intertwined their fingers, his gaze pensive. “You sure are something, Lance.”

He laughed. “That’s an understatement.”

“You really want to kill him?”

He nodded. “I can’t stay here with him. And now, I have you. We can run away, you and I.”

Keith’s heartbeat quickened—he tried to brush away his feelings.

Lance didn’t truly care for him, he _couldn’t_. And Keith didn’t care about him, either; he was a mark and that was all. Still… the thought of running away from the war, from everything… it was tempting.

He had to stop giving into temptations, he chided himself. He would never run, not from Shiro and the Blade—they were his family after all.

“It will be difficult, you know.  Can you keep up the act with Lotor until we strike?”

“Of course. I’ve been pretending to love him for years, haven’t I?”

Keith couldn’t honestly answer the question—he’d been under the impression that Lance might actually care about Lotor, at least in certain states. “It will take some time, to get it right. We need to prepare a proper escape, and a method.” If he could time it right, maybe he could have the Blade strike at the same time; he still had to figure out a way to interfere with the ship’s defenses, of course, but he had time. “You’ll be a wanted man, you know.”

“I know. I’m willing to risk it for freedom, though,” his eyes were determined. “If possible, I want to be the one to do it. To kill him.”

“I understand your sentiment, but Lotor… he’s Galran. We're a bit hardier than most species. Even if he's not a soldier, he’d be difficult to overpower. Perhaps, though, you could. With poison.”

“No, I want to do it with my own hands,” Lance insisted.

Keith sighed. “We’ll figure it out in time, alright?”

Lance scooted closer against his warmth, nodding. “Alright.”

 

* * *

 

The Blade was surprised with Keith’s change in plans, understandably, but they were quick to agree to it; they would take care of the details, he only had to keep up his charade with Lance.

Keith couldn’t remember a time he’d been happier—and Lance seemed genuinely content with his touch and presence, too. They mourned the nights Lance spent in Lotor’s bed, but other than those few hours every few days, they were together. When alone, Lance would be quick to extend a hand or chaste kiss. He was less physically demanding than Keith had assumed he would be, almost juvenile with his displays of affection. It was as if he was courting Keith traditionally, their initial tryst an outlier.

Nyma and Rolo were thankfully keeping quiet—they almost seemed supportive of the dangerous union. Keith would still be flustered by their teasing glances, but Lance would only laugh.

Weeks had passed since their agreement, and their moment was drawing near. Keith had the ship’s blueprints, thanks to Lotor’s paranoia about Lance’s mental state; he’d procured a suitable weapon—a knife, at Lance’s request, but tipped with poison at Keith’s insistance; and the Blade was nearby, with Allura ready to open a portal within their vicinity at Keith’s command.

The plan was simple: Keith would give Lance his blade before dinner, whereafter he would leave with Lotor for his room. Keith would be waiting in the pod’s bay till Lance joined him, at which point he’d signal the Blade and they’d make their escape. He had lied to Lance about the next part of the plan, for which he felt guilty, but it was necessary. Instead of flying to a free planet, they’d dock on Allura’s castle-ship.

He hadn’t quite figured yet when he would tell Lance the truth about him and their destination, but he already knew that Lance would be rightly pissed when he realized he’d been played. In the meanwhile, then, Keith put his whole self into the role of doting lover since he knew their time together would likely be over soon.

Lance and Lotor left the table, grinning at each other like lovebirds; it was sickening. Still, Keith left for his chambers as always, betraying nothing before sending an update to Shiro. The Blade, too, was ready, Shiro responded. Keith didn’t want to chance having a bag on his person, as that may arouse suspicion, so he’d already packed some provisions away in a pod during their preparation.

He made his way toward the ship bay, nodding greetings at familiar staff and guards. The bay was close to the observation deck, where he was often spotted when parted from Lance, so his trip wasn’t questioned by any of the nosier passerby. He waited patiently at their meeting spot, tucked behind a parked cargo ship. Given the late hour, none of the engineers or pilots were around. Alone, Keith sent another message to his base.

There wasn’t a set time that they’d agreed upon, but Keith was growing impatient when Lance failed to show up an hour after their dinner. Surely he’d have had a chance to take out Lotor by then—it would only take one quick cut to immobilize him. Afterwards, he’d be dead in minutes. A deeper gash would have only sped up the process, and he’d guessed from Lance’s enthusiasm that he’d have been efficient with the weapon.

Worried, he took off toward Lotor’s quarters; if no one had been alerted, he could take Lotor out himself, he knew, and then Lance and he could continue with the rest of their plan.

He didn’t have a chance to test his blade, however, as he pulled up just short of Lotor’s room; a small crowd had formed around the door, curious servants attempting to peak around two guards.

Keith was shoved aside by Haggar, who was allowed into the room. He froze—Haggar was a druid of many talents. Among them, healing. Had Lance failed?

Weighing the risks—should he run? Had they been caught? Or should he feign innocence and enter the room?—he decided to stay on the ship. He walked up to the guards, and they let him through without a question.

The front room was empty, so Keith pressed forward. The bedroom, too, revealed nothing. He caught sight of the bathroom door, wide open and light streaming out, and approached it.

Haggar and Lotor were both kneeling over the tub, covered in red.

Red.

Keith’s eyes widened; his breath caught in his throat. Galra didn’t bleed red.

He didn’t realize that he’d completely zoned out till Lotor was in front of him, shaking his shoulders.

“-eith! Keith!” he was shouting. He barely heard it over the ringing.

Keith fell to his knees, Lotor miming his actions. He saw the man’s mouth moving from the corner of his eye, but his eyes were fixated beyond him.

Beneath Haggar’s hands, Lance’s prone body lay. Blood was leaking from his forearms, christening the white porcelain in scarlet.

“Lance…” he couldn’t tell if it was a whisper or a shout. “Lance, no, no no!” Finally, he heard himself clearly, and he winced at the volume.

“Keith, look at me!” Lotor commanded. Keith’s eyes rapidly shifted; Lotor was crying, shattered. “I need you to calm down. He’ll be fine, alright? It’s not your fault.”

“How? There’s so much blood! What happened?”

“I don’t know where the knife came from—everyone’s usually so good at hiding everything from him. He was doing so well, I don’t understand,” he shook his head. “But, Haggar got here quickly, he should be fine.”

Indeed, Lance was still breathing, though he was pale, unnaturally so. If anyone could heal him, certainly Haggar could. Keith remembered—the poison.

“There’s something interfering with the healing. I’m struggling with closing the wound,” Haggar said.

Lotor turned sharply. “What do you mean?”

“The blade’s been poisoned.”

“How? How could he have gotten access to anything like that?” He shook his head. “Well, that’s a question for later. Is there anything you can do?”

“I can try to take over his own quintessence reserves, trick his body into healing itself. Something about this poison is rejecting my touch. But, it’s risky; I could end up flooding his body with my quintessence, killing him.”

“If it’s the only way to save him, do it,” Lotor commanded. “Do whatever it takes to keep him alive.”

“Yes sir,” Haggar nodded. The light around her hands changed color, and Keith watched, helpless, as she worked her magic _into_ the wounds. Lance’s body spasmed, and both Keith and Lotor gasped. His mouth fell open, red pouring from it. The wounds flashed blue, and Lance’s eyes shot open.

He took in a shuddering breath, his whole body taking on a blue tint through his tanned skin. Haggar slumped against the wall, exhausted at her spent energy.

But, the wounds didn’t close quickly enough; Lance looked down at his arms, seeming to understand what had happened. He shook his head, opening and closing his mouth as if to speak, but no words came. Instead, he brought his left hand to the opposite arm’s wound. He pressed a finger against it, pushing in and pulling out with a strangled cry.

Lotor was the first to react, surging forward and seizing Lance just above the cuts.

“Stop!” he cried out. “What are you doing?”

“Let go of me!” Lance spat back, wriggling in his grasp. The blue was fading, his eyes, too. He was too weak to fight against Lotor.

“What’s happening?” Lotor asked Haggar.

“The quintessence is keeping him alive for now. It will take time, but he will heal—without his interference, of course.”

“Let me die!” he shouted, voice hoarse. “I don’t belong here!”

“Lance, you’re not in a right state of mind right now,” Lotor shushed. “Please, we’re trying to help you. Save your energy for healing.”

“Healing? What?” he looked down, eyes widening as his skin seemed to stitch itself back together. “No no no no no!” He shook his head wildly. Haggar reached out, grabbing the back of his neck before he could bang his head against the tiled wall. With a zap of her powers, he was knocked out.

“What did you do?” Lotor asked.

“Put him to sleep. Now he can’t disrupt anything—the quintessence is acting as a secondary life source. With how much blood he lost, however, we should begin a transfusion immediately, else even the quintessence will be drained and he will die.”

“Right,” Lotor nodded. “Keith?”

“Huh?” he replied smartly.

“Help me carry him to the medical bay, please.”

“Of course,” he stood, his legs weak. He grabbed the counter till he regained some composure. Stepping to Lotor’s side, he gripped under Lance’s armpit and hoisted him up. He took one last glance at the thick layer of blood in the tub before exiting the room.

The walk to the medbay was somber, not a word exchanged. It wasn’t silent, however, as the sobs of servants could be heard when the group passed.

Upon arrival, the doctors placed Lance on a bed and immediately began the transfusion. His wounds had closed thanks to the quintessence, though two raised, jagged scars still betrayed what had transpired. Lotor was calm, explaining to the medics that poison had been involved—he’d even been conscious enough to have brought the knife, which a nurse took in order to run tests on. Keith on the other hand was still numb. He slumped down on a chair, surely leaving tracks of red. He struggled to stay awake, but he couldn’t fight the weariness that quickly replaced the adrenaline that had flooded his system.

He joined Lance in sleep in minutes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello it's a me

Keith awoke still in the medical bay, though he’d been moved from his chair to a bed. Turning to the side, he startled on seeing that Lance wasn’t there.

“You’re awake.” He angled toward the voice, finding Nyma leaning against a counter.

“How is Lance? How long have I been asleep?”

“It's been... four... five vargas? And he’s fine. He's been taken to his ‘special room’,” she crossed her arms. “He’s still sleeping, but he’ll be under constant monitoring. You may be out of the job for a bit.”

“I didn’t—I didn’t know he—“

“Calm down, lover boy. It’s nothing to beat yourself up over. He does this.”

“What?”

“It was your knife, wasn’t it?”

He froze under her gaze.

“I thought so.”

“It’s not like that!”

She held up a hand. “There’s no need to explain. He seduced you, you let your guard down, and he nicked one of your knives.”

 _What?_ he thought to himself. _Lance wouldn’t… he couldn’t…_

“Like I said,” she continued. “He’s done this before. Tricked me once, tricked a number of guards, too. You’re hardly special.”

Keith looked down at his hands; they’d been cleaned in his sleep, but he could still feel the weight of Lance’s blood on them. “He almost died… because I was careless.”

She cocked her head. “You’re not mad that he used you?”

How could he be? He’d been using Lance too, hadn’t he? “No.”

“Wow. You really care about him?”

He nodded.

“You hardly know him.”

“Does it matter?”

She shrugged. “Well, you may not be able to see him for some time, depending on Lotor's mood. He’ll surely be confined with Haggar for some ‘therapy’.”

“Shit,” he cursed. If she was probing around in his mind, it wouldn't be long before she found out how and why exactly Lance had been able to get his hands on a poisoned blade.

“If you’re worried about your little romance being found out, you shouldn’t be. Haggar doesn’t seem to care what Lance gets up to with others, so she never tells Lotor about those particulars.”

Of course, she probably had never found _murder plots_   _enabled by lovers_ in Lance’s head before, he thought wryly. Surely she’d be more likely to divulge that kind of information to Lotor. “Where are they?”

“Haggar’s lab. I doubt you’ll be able to approach. Lotor tends to keep everyone away when Lance is down there. It’ll be another few weeks till he’s out, and it won’t be the same Lance you fell for.”

He stood, gathering his possessions which had been set on a side counter. He knew where the lab was, but before heading there, he had to get a hold of Shiro. Nodding in parting to Nyma, he left the room. The walk to Lance’s room was long, but despite the early morning hour, he didn’t bump into any staff; it was as if the whole ship was waiting with bated breath to learn the fate of the prince, and it gave an eerie, haunting vibe.

Back in the room, Keith locked the door behind him and fell onto the settee. He removed his communicator from his boot—thank quiznak no one had thought to remove his shoes after he'd fainted—and activated it with a click of a small button. The black plastic square split in half and spread outward, revealing its true form: a sleek tablet. Selecting the call option, he was immediately connected with Shiro.

“Black,” he began.

Shiro was asleep in his seat—Keith had figured he’d stay on call in the comms room given Keith’s unexplained absence—but on hearing Keith’s voice, he woke.

“Red! What happened?”

“Lance… he didn’t go through with the plan.”

“Are you jeopardized? What’s wrong?” he seemed to notice that Keith wasn’t panicked, just upset. “Is Lotor alive?”

“He is. But, the problem is Lance…” Shiro remained silent, letting Keith explain in his own time. He inhaled, deep and loud. “Lance used the knife to try and take his own life.”

Shiro gasped. “Is he alright?”

“He’s alive, but according to one of his attendants, he’ll be kept in a ‘special’ place for a few weeks. Haggar has him now.”

“I see,” Shiro’s frown was slight, but he knew he was worried; Keith could always read his mood just by looking at his brow. “Well, it’s your call how you want to play this. I’ll have to tell Allura, of course.”

“You’re still in the quadrant, right?”

“Of course, but we can pull back now since—“

“No,” Keith’s voice was firm, commanding. “We can still do this. Let’s strike today. With any luck, we can capture Lotor alive.”

“Luck? You know that’s not how we prefer to operate.”

“I can’t stay around long, so we don’t have much of a choice. Lance will be with the druids, and they’ll see _everything_.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Not the whole truth, of course! But, I was the one who gave him the knife and told him to kill Lotor. It’s my fault this went wrong…”

“You can’t think like that. Lance’s emotional state was an outlier none of us accounted for.”

“Don’t make it sound so clinical,” Keith frowned. “He’s a person, you know.”

“I know that,” Shiro sighed. “What if we extracted just you right now?”

“No. We need to get Lance out of here too.”

“What makes you think he won’t just hate it here as he does there? You have to understand what he’s gone through, Keith. I mean, I was with the druids for only a few months, and it really messed me up. He’s been with them for _five years_.”

“I honestly can’t say that he’ll be happy with us. But, we’ve gotta try, don’t we? If we leave him here, he’ll just be tortured even more and maybe next time he tries to take his life, he’ll succeed.”

“You won’t even consider leaving him, then?”

“No.”

Another lengthy sigh. “I don’t know what he’s done to you, but I hope you know you’re being reckless.”

“I know I am. But that’s always kind of been my thing, isn’t it?”

“So what’s your plan?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“Ah. Perfect,” Shiro replied flatly.

“Well, I know where Lance is, at least. I could go in and take out Haggar, maybe Lotor too—“

“In what universe would that be a good idea?! You’re strong, Keith, but not that strong.”

“Or,” he continued. “If there were a diversion of some sort, say an epic space battle for the ages…”

“You want us to risk our fleet on the off chance you can save your boyfriend?”

“Not my boyfriend. Besides, we could get Lotor, too.”

“Or he’ll be smart and escape with himself and Lance.”

“It’ll be fine,” he stood quickly. “I’m heading down. I’ll send the ‘go’ signal when I’m down there, alright?”

“I still think this is awfully—“ before Shiro could fully voice his opinion, Keith closed the device.

He burst into the hall—still seemingly devoid of life—then stopped for a moment to collect himself. While he knew it was foolish to operate based on assumptions, he figured that for the time being, he was safe to run through the halls. If anyone stopped him, he could simply say he was worried about Lance, which was true of course.

Since he was running, it wasn’t long before he reached Haggar’s preferred workplace. He had yet to venture to this part of the ship before, as usually only those who were to be subjected to the mage’s cruel tortures ever had the misfortune of entering her sanctuary.

He had expected the space to be akin to a dungeon, but of course it looked much like the rest of the ship’s rooms—it wouldn’t make much sense for one section to be formatted and decorated differently for the sake of aesthetics, he supposed. It was a few floors below the main medical bay, and he was able to navigate it since it was set up in the same way. It was much less crowded, understandably, and in place of medical personnel there were a handful of guards, but they let him through the locked doors, surely recognizing him as someone of some import. They pointed him toward Lance’s room, or so they said, and Keith, without much choice, believed them.

Images of torture racks, knives, and warped figures hunching over a bound body had filled his imaginings, but the scene he found was nowhere near as dreadful. Lance was awake, surprisingly enough, cloaked in a white robe and reclining on a bed. Lotor was next to him, smiling gently as he spoke in a low voice. The most shocking element of the rather domestic picture was the small child sitting on Lance’s lap.

“Oh, you’re up,” Lotor nodded toward Keith. “Come, meet Lance’s new friend.”

“What… what’s going on?” he took a tentative step forward, his paranoia holding him back.

“Haggar has a number of, er… patients here. This little one’s mother was among them. I thought Lance may fare better if we took a break from his usual treatment in lieu of this.”

“Her name’s Hilley,” Lance turned her to face Keith. “Part Altean, part Galran. Isn’t she pretty? She’s got my eyes, I think.”

“Uh…” Keith didn’t like the glossy look in Lance’s eyes.

“She’s quite the addition to our little family, don't you think?” Lotor placed a hand on Lance’s back. “Our daughter.”

Lance beamed at that, kissing the top of the child’s head with a loud smack. “She’s perfect! Thank you, Lotor!”

He chuckled. “Anything to make you happy, love.” He stood, turning to Keith. “I haven’t had a chance to rest just yet. Would you mind watching him and Hilley for a bit?”

“Where’s Haggar?” he asked.

“Still recovering. But, I don’t think Lance will have need of her services, actually. He seems just fine with Hilley. Of course, she may... ask him just where he got the knife, once she's recovered. But other than that she won't be needed.”

Keith was relieved that his cover wasn't yet blown—allegedly. Though, as much as Keith had grown to care for Lance, he didn’t think entrusting a child’s fate to him was wise. “Can I speak with you for a moment, your highness? Outside?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

Once outside the room, Lotor shut the door.

“I don’t understand what’s happening. Whose child is that? Where are her parents?” Keith asked.

“The child is Lance’s now. Well, mine too I suppose. And her mother was a captured enemy agent who gave birth in a cell on board.”

“Is she alive?”

He shrugged. “I doubt it. I’m honestly surprised Haggar even kept the kid alive for so long. Perhaps her heritage triggered some sentimental feelings in her, who knows?”

“And you’re just… giving her to Lance? As some kind of therapy?”

“Would you prefer I have Haggar in his mind, then? It takes a toll on him, and as I said, he was making good progress. I don’t like my possessions to be completely broken, you know, only partially.”

“I see… What if he hurts this child?”

“Better her than him, I say. I have no concern for her well-being.”

Keith paled—how could anyone be so cold to an innocent child?

Lotor continued. “I trust this won’t be a problem, then? Lance is hardly free of blood on his hands, you know. He’s hurt people before; my enemies, my allies, even… if he needs to take out his frustrations in some way, then I won’t stop him.”

“Is he… he seemed a bit out of it still.”

“Oh, we gave him some medications for the pain and to help him rest, but his body is filtering them out rapidly—we think it’s a residual effect of the quintessence overload. He’s a little loopy, in a word, and he doesn’t seem to remember what happened. When he does and, depending how he reacts, we’ll decide how to continue his treatment. I really hope he’ll be fine with just some more medicine; else, we may have to remove some memories of his—again.”

“What do you mean?”

Lotor shook his head. “It’s nothing for you to concern yourself with. Just, try not to upset him, alright? He’s still quite delicate.”

Keith nodded, and Lotor turned to leave. He slipped back into the room, watching for a few sweet seconds as Lance rocked the baby against his chest. He cleared his throat.

Lance’s eyes met his, slow thanks to the drugs.

“How are you feeling?” Keith asked, moving toward a chair beside the bed.

“Tired,” he confessed. “A bit nostalgic. It’s been so long since I’ve seen a child. I’d almost forgotten they existed.” He scooted to one side of the bed, patting the space next to him. “Sit, you look exhausted yourself.”

At least he was coherent, Keith thought. He obeyed, settling next to Lance. The prince rested his head on Keith’s shoulder, sighing.

“I’m sorry,” Lance said.

“What?"

“Lotor thinks I don’t remember anything, but I was just lying to him. I thought I could go through with it, you know, killing him. But, when I was in the bathroom, getting ready to do it… I just… I froze. I physically could not bring myself to open the door, even after all he’s done to me, to my planet, to countless others—her parents, so many other parents… But, he’s not alone. I’ve hurt people too, and hardly shed tears for them. I’m a wretched person, I know it, and I just… it made more sense to get rid of myself than to get rid of him.” He sniffled. “I don’t want to be here, Keith.”

Keith wrapped an arm around Lance’s shoulders. “We can still go away, you know.”

“How? And why are you even here? Shouldn’t you hate me?”

“I could never hate you.”

Lance smiled. “You know,” he began. “She looks a lot more like you than Lotor.”

Keith regarded Hilley with little interest, even though it had been many pheebs since he’d seen a child as well. They weren’t so commonplace on warships, after all. “In what way?”

“She’s got a little bit of a mullet, clearly. And her purple’s closer to yours than it is to Lotor’s.”

Keith scoffed. “She’s much more like you, with her weird ears and little eye scales.”

“Perhaps we’re related,” he mused, his face growing dark. “Lotor is particularly cruel to Alteans, you know. I guess… I am too.” He shook his head. “This healing… it’s hurting my head. It’s as if I’m remembering things I’d forgotten for so long.”

“I’m sure your mind was trying to protect you from some of the more painful things you went through.”

“I don’t want to remember, though,” he sighed. “What I wouldn’t give for some wine right now.” He shook his head. “Look at me, I don’t even want to get better. Maybe I don’t deserve it, honestly. I don’t deserve anyone’s help or pity. I’ve been nothing but a bother to you, and to others before you who’ve tried their hardest to help me. Most of them have wound up dead, or worse.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… Well... honestly I don’t even know what I mean,” he sighed.

“Nyma told me some things. That you’ve been with others before me, without Lotor knowing.”

“That I’ve used them?” he supplied. “And yet you’re here offering a shoulder to cry on. Why is that?”

“Because I care about you. I want to help you, all of you, messed up parts and all.”

“I think all I am is messed up parts at this point.”

“Was Hilley your idea or Lotor’s?”

“Mine. I saw her when they brought me down here. They had her tied down, Keith—as if a baby was going to try running away! I thought that, maybe if they thought I needed some new crutch, they’d let me take her. I was right, I guess.”

“You had no idea that would work.”

“Not in the slightest.”

“And yet you tried. All to save her. That was brave of you, and very selfless.”

He shrugged. “Or maybe I was just trying to avoid another source of guilt.”

“Regardless, Hilley’s alive.”

“And I intend to keep her that way.”

“I’m glad.” He shifted, reaching down into his boot. “Do you trust me, Lance?”

He looked down, worry on his face. “I’m the one who should ask you that. All I’ve done is let you down, put you at risk. If you were smart, you’d run away from all this, before I get you killed.”

“I won’t run away, not unless you're with me.”

He frowned. “I can’t leave, though.”

“Why not? I thought you wanted that.”

“I just... you don’t understand!” he cried. “There’s a large part of my brain that _needs_ Lotor—they made me this way! I can’t even _think_ of hurting him without getting a migraine, a life without him in it would be nothing less than torture to me!”

“They’ve already tortured you, Lance. That’s why you think that way! If you can get away from him, from the druids, from the constant conditioning and the fear of him punishing you, you can finally heal. You can have a normal life! You can be free!”

“Free to what? Eventually remember what happened, remember all that I'd done, and then kill myself? Why even bother wasting time or risking your life if I can just kill myself here?” he snorted.

“I’m not saying you’ll instantly be cured, that leaving will erase what happened to you, because that will never happen. All that shit, it’s stuck with you, it’s shaped you. But, if we leave, at the very least you’ll finally be in control.”

“I don’t want to be in control! I’m clearly no good at taking care of myself! And, anyway, who knows what else they did to me—maybe I have a tracker or something. Maybe the second I leave the ship I’ll explode.”

“We can check for things like that. I’ll protect you.”

He shook his head. “The only person I need protection from is myself.”

Keith groaned. It was clear that no amount of talking would persuade him. He pressed a button on his transmitter. “The time to decide is now.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

Keith jumped off the bed, holding out his hand. “I know things seem like shit now, Lance, and you’re right; you're cracked in some places, Lotor’s really done a number on you. But, you can heal, you can grow, you can live. _We_ can live. Together. Hilley, too, if you want.” The ship rocked; alarms blared.

“What was that? What did you do?” he yelled. “Just who the hell are you?”

“I’m your last chance at a normal life. Do you trust me?” he repeated. Lance stared at his hand, then his face.

“Fat chance,” he spat. Still, he took the hand. “I’m doing this for her, not for me.”

“Works for me,” Keith tugged Lance toward the door, slowing down when he realized how shaky he was on his feet. “Can you walk?”

“I think so… I won’t be the quickest, though.”

“That’s fine. We only have to get to the pod—it’s still ready and waiting.” The guards were scrambling, a few of them eyeing them oddly.

“Where are you going?” one of them asked. He and his partner aimed their weapons.

“I’m Lance’s personal guard!” he yelled. “In the event of an attack I’ve been instructed by Lotor himself to take Lance to a safe place.”

They looked between themselves. After a few beats, they moved, letting Keith, Lance, and Hilley out of the lab.

The pulsing lights and horns in the hallways seemed to have no effect on Hilley, who snoozed on contentedly. Keith was racing, pulling them toward their escape pod via the shortest path. He didn’t think they’d run into anyone until they got to the hangar, at which point they may have to fight. He hoped by then that docked fighter pods would already be deployed in response to the Blade’s diversion, but he had his sword just in case. Protecting Lance and now Hilley would make things more difficult, of course, but he had no choice.

Lance tugged him back as they neared the hangar. “Wait,” he said.

“We don’t have time!” Still, he paused.

“I don’t understand what’s happening here, but I know you had something to do with it. You’re… you’re not loyal to Zarkon, are you?”

“Of course I’m not.”

“Then, shouldn’t we be trying to get Lotor or something?”

“My friends are on it.” Another blast shook the ship. Then another. “My main mission is to get you out.”

Lance froze, resisting Keith’s pull. “Your ‘mission’? Is that all I was?”

“Lance, can we not talk about this right now?”

“It was all a lie, then?”

He groaned, turning to face Lance. He grabbed him roughly by the cheeks, pulling him in for a heated kiss. “Nothing about my feelings was a lie. I jeopardized years’ worth of infiltration, this whole damn mission, to save you.”

“But… why? I’m nothing! All your work... wasted for me? I’m a broken, useless—“

“Stop that!” he yelled. “You’re not… you're not useless! You’re hurting, you’ve been wronged for so long, for too long. But, you’re bright. You’re incredible, Lance, you're more brilliant than you seem to realize. You're so full of love, still, for your people and for the innocent, even if you don't think it's true because of what they've done to alter your perceptions of yourself. Despite all of it you're still so strong, so perfect, and I love you!”

“What?” his mouth fell open. “You… you love me?”

“I do. And right now, you just need to let me save you, alright? Let the others take care of Lotor and Haggar and everyone. I don’t care about them! I care about you!”

He gave a weak smile. “And Hilley?”

“Yes, her too, of course.”

Lance turned aside in an attempt to hide his tears. “I still don’t understand why you’d care about someone like me. After everything.”

“Well, I have the rest of our lives to explain it, don’t I?” he took Lance’s hand, stepping forward. “Are you with me?”

Lance nodded, readjusting Hilley so he could run more comfortably. “Lead the way, then.”

With a grin, Keith continued on his path, Lance seeming more invigorated after their talk.

When they stumbled into the hangar, Lance gasped.

“Lotor!” he yelled.

Across the room, Keith was relieved to see Shiro, gun trained on Lotor who was bound in chains on his knees. Behind him, two more masked figures stood; Keith recognized them by their statures alone.

“Lance,” Lotor cried. He spotted Keith. “Keith, get him out of here!”

Keith approached Shiro, Lance shuffling behind him. “That was quick,” he commented. Lotor blanched, understanding passing over his face.

Shiro shrugged. “Defenses were more lax than anticipated.”

“Haggar’s still on board somewhere.”

“Allura’s looking for her. She should be in contact soon.”

“You traitor,” Lotor spat. Instead of directing his wrath at Keith, he glared at Lance. “You let them in? After all I’ve done for you?”

“Lotor,” Lance fell to his knees. “I didn’t know, I swear! I had no idea who Keith was, that he was—I’m sorry!”

“You had no idea, but you still slept with him, didn’t you?” he glared.

“What? How did you—“

“I’m not an idiot, Lance. I could tell how happy you were—I almost thought it was because of me.”

“No, please. I don’t… I’m so confused.” He reached for his head, though was still mindful of Hilley in his free arm. “I don’t… it didn’t mean anything! I still love you, Lotor.”

The words stung, of course, and Keith caught Shiro sending him a sympathetic look.

Lance turned to Shiro. “What are you going to do to him?” he asked.

“He’ll stand on trial for his war crimes. Given the abundant evidence against him, surely he’ll be put to death.”

Lance gasped. “You can’t do that, please!”

“Lance,” Keith knelt next to him, an arm around his shoulders—meant to both comfort and restrain him. “He’s an evil man. What he’s done to the universe… to you... He deserves it.”

“Then I deserve it too!” Lance shouted. “I’ve killed and facilitated the executions of hundreds, I’m sure! Why am I any better than him? Just because you love me?”

Hearing the words spat back in his face hurt even more than Lance’s declaration of love for Lotor. Lance continued. “Let me stay with him, please! I can’t stand to see him hurt! If he dies, so should I.”

“You think I want you by my side, after all this?” Lotor scoffed. “You’ve long since outlived any initial intrigue you once held. You’re nothing more than a common whore, aren’t you, sleeping with guards under my nose? You’re lucky I plucked you up from that trash heap of a planet, otherwise you’d have never amounted to anything. You were nothing more than an extra, someone who didn’t belong. It was I who gave you purpose!” his voice was rising in volume. “Without me, you’re nothing, Lance.”

Lance was bawling, thrashing in Keith’s arms in a sad attempt to cross the room to Lotor. “Lotor, please, what are you saying? I love you!”

“And yet you sold me out!”

“I would never do that—please, you have to believe me! I didn’t know what Keith was!” Lance choked on a sob. “If I had any idea I’d have killed him! I’d do anything for you!”

Lotor turned aside, his own restraints making it difficult. Keith swore he saw tears in his eyes. “Just go, Lance. I don’t want you anymore.”

“No!” Lance screamed, his voice growing hoarse. Keith dragged him toward the escape pod, where Shiro’s two comrades were standing, waiting and watching with concern. “Lotor! Let me stay with you! Keith, let go of me!” He managed to slip one arm out and swung it madly, catching Keith’s chin with a sharp blow. Lance surged forward, but Keith’s grip was true. He fell to his knees and let out a piercing wail.

Quintessence crackled around him, but Lance was too emotional to control it. Instead, the ship’s lights flickered and it groaned under the change in pressure. Keith thought it was another hit from their ships, but judging by Shiro's worried look, this wasn't part of the plan.

“We need to get him out of here, Keith,” Shiro ordered. “He’ll tear the ship apart with his powers if we don’t get him under control.”

Lance’s sobbing was perfectly timed with the swaying of the ship. As Lotor was pulled to a separate pod, he chanced one last glance at them before being forced to face forward. Keith thought he saw desperation, a silent plea. However, it wasn’t directed at Lance, but at Keith.

He realized then what had just happened. Lotor still had a hold over Lance, years of training had solidified that. But, in outright rejecting Lance, breaking—no, shattering his heart, his warped affection—he let him go. He recognized where he’d been beat, and instead of dragging Lance into the abyss with him, he finally released him.

Fearing what could happen if Lance was to remain in his fit, Keith removed a dart hidden in a pocket in his boot. Before he could second guess himself, he thrust the needled tip into Lance’s neck.

He immediately fell silent, and the ship stabilized. His full weight pressed against Keith; he was out cold. Keith passed Hilley off to his teammates, then crouched down and threw Lance over his shoulder. He continued their interrupted trek to the pod, his peers following after him without a word.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now with more Keith Love™! In which Keith has emotions and Lance is ptfo

“You should get some rest, Keith,” a kind voice cut through the silence of the otherwise empty room.

He turned, nodding his head to acknowledge Allura’s entrance, but he directed his attention back to the healing pod. As it had been for the past few days, Lance’s prone body was still behind the cloudy glass. Keith shifted the weight in his arms, Hilley murmuring lightly in her sleep but unbothered by the movement. She’d taken a liking to him, as she had to Lance, and he was the only one who’d been able to calm her since Allura ordered Lance to be suspended temporarily in a pod.

Keith had rejected the idea immediately—not the him tending to Hilley thing, but the Lance thing, that is. Extended stasis meant that Lance was in there, alone with his thoughts and memories, his feelings and conflicting emotions. They hadn’t explained anything to him, he hadn’t even been allowed to wake from Keith’s injection; with little regard for the consequences, he was left, completely alone and probably confused. Keith only hoped his cryopod musings were pleasant, and not anywhere near as dark as his dreams tended to be when with Lotor.

He spent more of his time in the healing pod chamber than he’d like to admit, only leaving for a few hours to sleep and train. His friends had taken to bringing him his meals, having been briefed on the situation: that is to say, on his feelings for Lance. They took the news as well as he’d expected, so not well at all. Shiro had chewed him out for putting so much on the line for the sake of a crush, to which Keith could only respond with derision—as if his feelings could be described in such a simplistic way.

Allura was ecstatic to have her brother back, but on hearing from Shiro how he’d acted toward Lotor and Keith, how he’d spoken of Altea and his family, her heart hardened. She didn’t trust him, especially not with Lotor on board the ship, and she wanted him on planet as soon as possible. Not once did she mention concern for his health or for finding the best treatment for him, even after both Keith and Coran had implored her to be more sympathetic toward him.

Pidge teased him at first, then softened on realizing just how hurt Keith was by everything. She’d seen the whole thing, too, seen Keith’s face when Lance belittled his feelings and confessed adoration for the man who’d tortured him instead. She knew Keith well—they all did, of course, but their similar personalities and social reflexes brought them closer at times than he was even to his own brother—and she knew that antagonizing him when he was already beating himself up for falling for someone in Lance’s situation would only make things worse. So, she offered him a pat on the back, an open ear, and her mind. She was already researching the proper resources to employ in order to help Lance heal. She’d even recruited her older brother, Matt, who practiced medicine as well as performed additional scientific research on board the castleship.

Another of his peers, Hunk from engineering, offered comfort without question. He knew Keith wouldn’t have done as he’d done without good reason, that his feelings weren’t so shallow as other may think. He’d always admired Keith for his instincts and tended to trust in them wholeheartedly, even when his own timidity tended to push him toward a completely opposite decision. He made sure that Keith was getting his rest as well as his daily rations, and was doing a good job at keeping other nosier soldiers at bay.

Well, Hunk _had_ been doing a good job up to that point. Allura’s intrusion was unexpected, but Keith supposed it was only a matter of time before she caught wind of his thorough watch over Lance. She and Shiro were both still steaming over recent events, and he’d hoped they’d have given him just a few more days free of their probing questions.

“I’m not tired,” he finally supplied.

“I hope you’re not sleeping in here,” she said.

“No, I sleep in my room. I train, I eat. I see to Hilley.”

Allura smiled at the baby. “She’s lovely. Very plump! Reminds me a lot of Lance when he was younger. Though more purple, of course.”

In the few conversations he’d had with Allura about Lance, she’d never had such a tender look. “Was Lance fond of children?”

“Oh, very much so. We had no other siblings, but we had a number of young cousins—he just loved to watch over all of them. To play with them. Even random children in the city.”

“You’re only a few years older than him, right?”

She nodded. “That’s right. Two pheebs, a bit over two years, then. He was thirteen when… when Lotor took him. When our father was killed. And now it’s been five years.” Her eyes were glistening, and she rubbed at them. She faced the cryopod, placing a hand over Lance’s chest. “I’ve missed him so much, Keith. For so long I’ve wanted him back. But, what if he’s not my Lance? All the things he said… what he did… how can I forgive him for that?”

“He asks himself the same questions,” Keith approached her, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder. “Who he is now is not the same Lance you knew, of course, but he’s still your brother. There’s a lot going on in that head of his, a lot of pain he needs help working through. I think we can help him, though, but if you want to do that, you have to let him out. You can’t look at him or treat him like he’s some monster, otherwise, he’ll become one.”

She laughed over a sob. “I thought Shiro was supposed to be the wiser one between the two of you.”

He shrugged. “It’s all a charade. I’m actually the cool and collected leader while he’s the rebellious hothead. We’ve been leading everyone on for years.”

She shook her head, smiling. “I should apologize for yelling at you earlier. It was uncalled for.”

“I understand that I was careless, that I put the Resistance at risk. But, I was more offended on Lance’s behalf.”

“Pardon?”

“You made it seem as if he was so undeserving of love, that I was a fool for falling for him not because of the situation but because it was _him_. Lance was hurting before Lotor found him, he was dealing with insecurities, feeling like he wasn’t good enough, that he was nothing more than a spare prince in comparison to you. Lotor used those dark thoughts, he manipulated them and twisted them into something much more dangerous. It would’ve been much harder to control Lance without such a strong anchoring sentiment, and Lotor was smart to have noticed that so quickly after meeting Lance.”

Allura was naturally defensive, so Keith wasn’t surprised when she bristled at his comment. “If you’re saying—“

“I’m not saying it’s your fault,” he said, anticipating her point. “Don’t be ridiculous. Lotor and Haggar are to blame. Regardless, Lance is strong, he always has been. He loves you still, loves Altea. Even through all his ‘training’ I know this to be true. He… I don’t even think he knows you’re alive, or Coran, or that his planet wasn’t destroyed.” He faced her. “I was tasked with protecting Lance from Lotor, but I intend to carry this mission out even further. He doesn’t deserve to be hurt anymore, be it from the Galra or anyone else. Do you understand?”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Just… remember that he’s your brother, but not the one from your memories. He’s here and he’s alive and he needs people who genuinely care for him. For so long Lotor convinced him that only _he_ could care for him, that anyone else would see him as worthless. I hope my actions will help persuade him of the truth, and it would be helpful to have others acting similarly. I know Coran is on board, Pidge, too, though she hardly knows him.”

“And as if Shiro would turn his back on someone you’ve come to love,” Allura smiled, though her eyes still betrayed her sadness. “I will… I will treat him better. He is precious to me. Valuable to the Resistance, too. We finally have our prince—“

Keith growled, a rumbling deep in his chest. The vibrations were enough to rouse Hilley, but she didn’t cry. “He is not to go from being Lotor’s pawn to your own. If someday he wishes to speak, to support you in public as the martyr you all painted him to be, then that’s fine. But you will not parade him about like some prize you’ve won back from your enemy. He is your brother!”

She shirked back at his aggressive tone and stance. “I apologize.”

He deflated. “I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“No… it’s fine. You’re right, once again,” she chuckled wryly. “This cryocycle has one more day—I think you should be here to greet him. Take him to your room, Hunk can bring some food to you both. Explain to him where he is, what’s happened. And, if you think it’s best, tell him that his sister would like to see him, if he’ll have me.”

Another day? He sighed. It was fine, he could handle it. “Of course.”

She patted him on the back. “Thank you, Keith, for believing in him when I didn’t—probably when he didn’t, too.”

He nodded. “Of course,” he repeated. He paused, adjusting Hilley in his arms. “What should I tell him if he asks for Lotor?”

“The truth, I think, that he’s being kept under heavy guard until his trial.”

“Which is when, by the way?”

“The council is being rather annoying about it, I’ll admit,” she crossed her arms, pouting. “They want to use him as a bargaining chip—as if Zarkon would surrender his whole army for his son. The longer they delay, the more I worry. It’s not as if he’s the only general Zarkon has, after all—and yet why has no one come after us? Retaliated?”

Keith frowned. “Perhaps we should just kill him ourselves, then.”

She snorted. “You’d make a terrible ruler, Keith. Although, I thought the same thing, so maybe neither of us are cut out for this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Allura, you’re the perfect Queen.”

Her eyes looked downward. “I have to tell him about our parents, I suppose. He doesn’t know.”

“I’m sorry.”

She looked back up, tears threatening to spill. “It’s fine, it’s been years, hasn’t it?”

“That doesn’t make it easier.”

She sighed. A few seconds passed, the only sound the whirring of the cryopod. “Well, I have the council to meet with soon. Hopefully we’ll finally make a decision about Lotor. After we deal with him, then we can see to tracking down Haggar. I assume she’s with Zarkon, but who knows?”

Keith hummed. It had been unfortunate, but Haggar had managed to escape during the siege. Allura said she’d opened a wormhole just for herself, and she had no idea where she’d disappeared to. Keith had been a bit shaken up after the whole ordeal, so concerned with taking care of Lance and Hilley that he hadn’t even known till long after they’d warped to the Resistance-occupied planet where they were docked and where, presumably, Lotor’s trial was to be held.

Allura finally left, and Keith followed her lead minutes later. Since he knew exactly when Lance would be waking up, there wasn’t much reason for him to linger. He stopped at the next room over. As expected, Pidge and Matt were both in the medical research room, Pidge laying on a gurney while she prattled on about some treatment, waving her arms while Matt sat nearby, nodding along. He noticed Keith first and waved.

“Hey,” Keith said.

“You know,” Pidge sat up, smirking. “Regular wellness checks are great for babies, but you don’t have to come in every day!”

“Shut up.” Pidge held out her arms, and Keith passed Hilley to her. Not one occupant of the ship had batted an eye at the presence of a baby. He hadn’t expected Pidge to be so warm with children given her disdain for most people and even the cutest of animals, but she cooed just as much as Keith did—in the privacy of his own room, of course. He had an image to maintain. “And I’m not here for a checkup. Not for her, anyway.”

“What’s up?” Matt asked.

“Lance will be out tomorrow.”

“Why doesn’t anyone tell me anything?” Matt whined. “As his primary caretaker, I should probably be the one who makes these decisions, not Allura!”

“She just told me,” Keith explained. “I’ll be there, but I think you should be too, Matt. He may need to talk to someone a bit more professional, or something.”

“As if he’ll notice anything other than this cutie!” Pidge placed a kiss to Hilley’s nose. She giggled, waving her plump arms in excitement. Keith stood behind Pidge, making similar hand movements, spreading his fingers.

“She seems to be adjusting well,” Matt noted. “She’s alert, proper weight and height for her species, vision’s perfect. As her motor control improves, you’ll have to start signing more for her, so she can learn to communicate that way.”

Hilley had been so calm during all the commotion, never once bothered by loud noises. When he’d first brought her to Matt for a checkup, he was quickly able to deduce the reason why: she was deaf. Whether it had anything to do with the trauma her mother experienced while pregnant or not hardly mattered. All Keith cared about was making sure he would be able to communicate with her as she grew up. He’d been taking lessons, but the ship’s built-in tutoring sessions were a bit unforgiving. Pidge had joined him for most of the classes as well, and she had a talent for languages. She certainly helped him avoid any of the more intense punishments the machine doled out.

“She’ll be smarter than all of us, I bet,” Pidge said. She set Hilley down, placing a hand at her back and lowering her onto the gurney. She wasn’t able to sit up on her own yet. “My own little lab assistant.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “She won’t even be all that helpful for a few years.”

“She can sit in the corner and motivate me with how cute she is.”

“Where’d the name come from, anyway?” Matt asked.

“I have no idea. I’m not sure whether her mother named her before she passed, or if Lance did when Lotor gave her to him.”

“I’d assume the druids who killed her mother wouldn’t have cared to respect her given name,” Pidge mused.

“You never know. Haggar’s Altean, isn’t she? Lotor mentioned she may have been sentimental when she saw her.”

Pidge scoffed. “I can’t imagine that witch feeling any emotion other than wrath.”

“Is that an emotion?”

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “But, you get what I’m trying to say. You know, I’m surprised you’re taking to domestic life so well. Usually you’re in the castle for a day or two before you’re begging to get back into the fray. What’s up?”

“You know I have to wait for Lance. And now I have her.”

“We can easily watch her. She’s not legally bound to anyone, you know.”

He turned his head. “Lance would have my head if I left her, anyway.”

Pidge poked his cheek. “What a softie. Gone for less than a pheeb and he’s a whole new man! Who knew that all it took was some dick knocking him up to bring out his paternal instincts!”

“Are you calling Lance a dick or referring to his actual penis?” Matt asked.

“Yes.”

“So what if I like the kid? She’s cool.” He gestured toward her. She farted.

“You know, that’s fair,” Pidge nodded sagely. “But, actually though. After Lance is out, who’s gonna be the stay-at-home dad?”

“What do you mean? Where would Lance go?”

“Well, Allura could bring him home, for one.”

“Home? Altea is far from being liberated. They can’t go back yet.”

She shrugged. “It’s clear that this was a big hit for the Galra army. Their morale is down. I think we’d be wise to strike Altea now, get her back. It’d be a huge momentum shift: Lotor and his fleet, dead; the Martyr Prince on the throne; Allura cleaning up the rest of the Galra.”

“We took out one fleet out of hundreds. And why would Lance be on the throne? Surely the people would want Allura.”

Matt frowned. “You haven’t heard?”

“What?”

“Well, everyone knows now that we’ve got Lance with us. People have been clamoring for him to make an appearance. They’re treating him like more than a martyr. He’s something like a god to some people, risen again and shifting the tide of the war.”

“That’s ridiculous, surely no one believes that.”

Pidge passed him her tablet, a news article on screen. “Look for yourself.”

He read the title, and it was enough. “’The Messiah’? Well, this is just one planet, and they’re known for being eccentric.”

“They’re not the only ones,” Matt said. “It won’t be long before Lance will have no choice but to go into the public eye.”

“No, he can’t. Not unless he’s ready.”

“Well,” Pidge rubbed her neck. “It better be soon. If he doesn’t, people may start doubting that we rescued him, so they may think we’re lying about Lotor too. If Allura wants to maintain her credibility, she’s gotta flaunt him.”

“You guys are worse than Allura, I thought you guys cared about him!”

“Of course we do!” Matt defended. “Well, as much as we can without having met him—but regardless! We want him better, you know we do. But, at the same time, he still has a role to play. We’re not expecting all that much from him; he won’t have to speak about anything. I assume he’d just have to wave at some parades and attend some huge balls—people will be too in awe of him to approach, I'm sure.”

“I know it’s not fair,” Pidge reached out, touching Keith’s arm. “He didn’t ask for any of this. He probably doesn’t think of himself as much of a hero. But to so many people, he is.”

“I wish I could take him far away from all this. That this war was over,” he whined—he knew he sounded juvenile, but he didn’t care. The others were surely thinking the same thing.

“I truly think it could be over sooner than we'd thought, and I think Lance will be a big part of that. He’ll make us look strong and even more legitimate to potential allies who'd been on the fence about joining us. If we can finally secure Altea and her resources, too, it’d be the home stretch!”

“Altea…” Keith frowned. “Wait, that’s right! Lance!”

“Name rings a bell. What are you on about?”

“He helped! After Altea fell, there were still cities that resisted. Outside allies who tried to take her back. But, Lance was on the Galran war council, he helped keep it locked down!”

“Yikes.”

“I know it looks bad, but we can use that! He knows how the Galra army operates because he masterminded some of their biggest victories! Surely, then, he knows their weaknesses, too.”

“And you assume he’ll tell us so easily?”

“I don’t know,” Keith’s agitated state hit a wall. “I mean… I’d like to think he would. He thinks Lotor hates him now, so he has no allegiance.”

“Other than years of druid-facilitated psychological torture. That’s true.”

He clenched his fists at his side—why did everyone doubt Lance so much? He was a good person. He’d owned up to his mistakes, to his guilt in the war. Surely he wouldn’t help the Galra further.

“Calm down, loverboy,” Pidge said. “If you trust him, so do I. Just… I don’t want him to hurt you anymore.”

“Hurt me?” he asked, confused. Lance was the hurt one, not him. What was she talking about?

“I had been meaning to start this conversation _a bit more delicately_!” Matt hissed at his sister. She shrugged.

“What conversation?” Keith furrowed his brows. The siblings shared a look.

Pidge slid from the table and picked up Hilley. “I’m gonna take her to the game room for a bit. Have fun!”

“What are you—“ Keith moved to intercept her, but stopped when Matt cleared his throat.

“You gave Shiro your mission briefing, you know, and you had your physical tests already. But, you seem to have forgotten about your psychiatric evaluation.”

“What?”

“It’s standard procedure for anyone who spends more than three months undercover—you know this. You were gone for ten, and the past few were particularly eventful.”

“What, you think something’s wrong with me?”

Matt frowned. “I think that the Blade has protocols, one of which is that we talk for a bit. Otherwise we can’t clear you for any more missions.”

“Lance is still in danger. He’s still my mission. I’m not taking on any more.”

Matt leaned back in his chair. “Please, take a seat.”

He did so with a grunt. He crossed his arms. “Fine. Talk.”

“Alright. How are you feeling?”

“About what? This? Lance? The mission? What?”

“Let’s start generally.” He pulled out a small notebook from his folder. “How has your sleeping been?”

He shrugged. “Sporadic. A few hours a night, if that.”

“Appetite?”

“I’m not all that hungry. Too busy.”

“Busy with what?”

“You know what!”

“Pretend I don’t.”

“I have Hilley, now, and training… putting up with Shiro on my back about everything.”

“Let’s unpack that. How has Shiro been treating you?”

“Even more like a kid than usual. I know I was out of line on this mission, but he won’t let it go! Everything worked out in the end, so what’s the big deal?”

“Sometimes it’s hard to understand why people react a certain way to our actions when we have no regrets about them.”

“I mean, I guess I understand his general frustration with my insubordinate attitude, or whatever, but it’s not like I care what my superiors think of me. I'm not about gaining respect or moving my way up the ranks. Once this war is over, I’m out, you know? I’m not like him, I’m not going to stay by Allura’s side till death.”

“Do you think he wants you to be like him?”

“I… no, I don’t think so. He knows I respect him, but he also understands that we’re two different people.”

“Maybe there’s another reason he was upset, then.”

Keith shifted in his seat. “I haven’t seen him this mad, ever.”

“I don’t think he’s seen you placed in such danger, ever, too.”

He frowned. “I guess… he was probably more upset that I was so unprepared.”

“Maybe. Or something else?”

As much as he didn’t want to, he replayed their one-sided conversations from the past few days. “He was worried. He _is_ worried.” He paused. “He was yelling, but he started crying once—he never cries. I guess… he wasn’t disappointed so much as scared. That I wouldn’t come back. That this thing with Lance will still put me in harm’s way.”

Matt nodded. Keith went on. “I was so caught up with everything, I probably didn’t take the time to consider how he might feel. I mean, you’re right, I was gone forever. Near the end, my communication was shit, too. I probably gave him multiple heart attacks. But, even though he was worried about everything, even though he didn't trust Lance, he still listened to me when I called for the strike, against all his training.”

“He trusts you. You have different ways of thinking, but he respects your instincts, your decisions.”

Keith loosened his arms, eased back into the chair. “Yeah. He does, I think. It’s the first we’ve seen each other in months and I unloaded so much stress on him. I should apologize, probably.”

“He probably has some apologies in him, too, I’d say.”

“Yeah. But, at the end of the day, we’re family,” Keith smiled.

Matt returned the smile. “A perfect segue. Let’s talk about Hilley.”

Keith’s posture relaxed. He uncrossed his arms, resting them on his lap. “She’s great.”

“Did you have siblings, Keith?”

He frowned—he assumed Matt had known about his past. Perhaps Pidge and Shiro had been more tight-lipped than he’d given them credit for. It wasn’t as if he often had deep conversations with Matt. “Uh, no,” he cleared his throat. “I was an only child. On Daibazaal.”

“What were your parents like?” Matt was eyeing him closely.

“I never knew my mom, just that she was Galra. My dad was human, and I lived with him. He left when I was young.”

“Have you seen him since?”

“No. I…” his fingers gripped his pants. “I haven’t seen him.”

“Any other family?”

“Not by blood. But, I met Shiro soon after my dad left. I'd been staying in my childhood home out in the middle of nowhere. He was scavenging near where I lived when he first saw me—idiot thought I was a ghost,” he chuckled. “Apparently our little shack had a legend surrounding it already. Anyway, Shiro came back the next day, and then the next. I was getting hungry, I’d run out of food. But I didn’t want to leave, just in case…” a few beats of silence.

“In case your dad came back.”

“I know it’s dumb, but I was a kid! I should’ve known he’d left me, left Daibazaal surely. A half-breed out in the slums, the only place for us,” he spat.

“A parent leaving their child? That’s not something that should be assumed. That’s abnormal behavior. You were simply making judgments based on what was common—in this case, what would be proper behavior for a parent.”

He rubbed at his eyes, sniffing. “Whatever.”

Matt chose to move on. “So Shiro came back, you were hungry. What next?”

“He gave me some food—he must’ve seen how thin I was. For the next week, I think, he brought me food. It was getting colder, too, so he brought me blankets. Finally, a storm hit, and my house was trashed. I cried and cried. My dad had worked so hard to build our home, he’d be so upset when he came back, I thought. Shiro comforted me, offered me a place to stay, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave.

“He'd had enough of my whining, I think. Told me my dad wasn’t coming back, that if I wanted to live I had to come with him. I told him I didn’t want to live without my dad,” he smiled fondly.

“Shiro can be just as stubborn as you, at times,” Matt smiled.

“He half-dragged me out of there, didn’t stop no matter what I said or did. He was in a home in the city, and they took me in.”

“An orphanage?”

“That’s the closest word to it. It was weird, though, I think they also used it to rehabilitate people with mental illnesses… refugees lived there, too. Especially later, once the war began.”

“Were there other children there?”

“No, I was the youngest.”

“Did you like it there?”

“I did. I mean, it was a dump. Too small and cramped. But, it was warm. A lot of interesting characters. I was sad when Shiro and I left, but we thought it was important that we fight for what was right.”

“It was very admirable of you to do so. Was Shiro your closest friend?”

“Yeah. The others were fine, but he was the one most like a brother to me. I’d follow him anywhere. Even when we fight I could never bring myself to leave him.”

“You’ve never thought about leaving, then?”

He gave a flat stare. “Time-out: I literally just said I wanted to run! You’re using that against me!”

“No I’m not!” Matt insisted. His voice was less soothing, the spell broken. He cleared his throat, his doctor voice returning. “I’m simply letting the conversation flow as it may.”

“Fine,” Keith grumbled. “I guess I’ve thought of running away, there.”

“And when did these thoughts arise?”

“When Lance and I were planning to kill Lotor. It was what he wanted, to run away from it all. I wanted to, too, for a bit. But, I felt guilty—I’d never leave you guys.”

“Do you think Lance is an important person in your life?”

“Um… duh?”

“In the same way as Shiro?”

“Well, since I’m not in love with Shiro, no.”

“Would you follow him?”

He paused. Would he? “I don’t have consider that, not for a while, I don’t think.”

Matt hummed.

“What?”

“Nothing. Tell me more about Lance.”

“What about him?”

“Anything. How you met, what you like about him, whatever you want.”

“It’s not some cutesy story. You know how we met!”

“I haven’t heard it from you directly. This isn’t a briefing, just let your thoughts flow.”

“Fine,” he huffed. “Well, Lotor introduced him to me at brunch. He was drunk already, barely able to eat his own food. Lotor helped him for a bit, Lance was very touchy with him. It was weird—was I supposed to leave? I wasn’t sure, just trying to keep my cover. Lotor took him for a bit, but before the hour was up, he was in his room, where I was staying, disheveled. They’d had sex, I guessed, and Lance said he was going to take a shower. He didn’t make it, instead started throwing up—in the sink, the tub. I had to guide him to the toilet.” He crossed his arms, shaking his head. “Turned around, hate in his eyes, asked ‘who the fuck I thought I was’. He promptly passed out on his couch, only to wake an hour later and demand a bottle of wine.”

“Not the most pleasant of first meetings,” Matt commented.

“It was the alcohol, he isn’t usually like that. He’s quite kind, sweet. I think I was starting to get a glimpse of the real him. I only hope I can help him.”

“What do you like about him?”

“Well, he’s not at all like this messiah people think he is, he’s no grand figure. He was over-the-top, but still he valued the simple things. When we had lunch in his bed instead of the grand feasts in the hall, when we sat in the gardens and listened to the birds, when we laughed over a line in a book he was reading, just leaning on me… that’s when he seemed happiest. But, there are so many negative thoughts in his head, and I just wanna tear them all out, you know? Like, he looks at himself and sees the scum of the galaxy, doesn’t understand why anyone would love him. I want him to see himself as I see him.”

“And how is that?”

He leaned back. “I love him, there’s no doubt, though I was just as shocked as him when I said that. To me, he’s the strongest person in the world. I wish he didn’t have to be strong, though, that none of this had happened to him. But even past that—he’s brilliant. Like, it’s incredible how smart he is. He’d have made a great king, I think. Sometimes we’d sit together, and he’d walk me through a battle that took place centuries ago, or explain the intricacies of certain wedding ceremonies of a random planet in the Pluth system, all with ease. He’d absorb information like a sponge. He’d make a great teacher, too, I bet. And then, when I saw him with Hilley… god… that may have been when I knew.” He shook his head, a soft smile on his face. Flushing, he froze. “Sorry, I forgot the question.”

“It’s fine. He sounds great. I’m not surprised he has some warped perceptions of reality in his head, given his situation. I hope to help him realize the flaws in his thinking when I meet him in this kind of setting. You seem quite taken with him.”

“Of course I am. It’s not some fleeting crush. It’s real.”

“Have you been in a relationship before?”

“No, haven’t had much time with the war.”

“It sounds like you enjoyed your ‘courting’, right?”

“Yeah, it was nice. When I was with him, it was almost like I could forget about the war.”

He nodded. “Apart from his mental state, is there anything about him that bothers you?”

Keith frowned. “I never said that bothered me. He can't help it!”

“Forgive my wording. I mean to say… you don’t like how he sees himself, correct?” Keith nodded. “You don’t like the negative thoughts that plague him.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You still like him, though, even though these are a part of him that you don’t like.”

“Sure.”

“Are there other parts of him, flaws, maybe, that you see?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I’m not going to say that his mental state is a flaw.”

“Of course, neither am I. But were there times, when he was well, when you noticed any flaws?”

“Maybe he was a bit selfish. But, I mean, I thought that preferable to him hating himself, so I excused it.”

“Selfish how?”

“Well, we’d usually end up talking about him all the time. It worked out since my cover story wasn’t all that deep. He’s not the type to ask how I’m doing, but then expected me to always ask how he was doing, you know?”

He nodded.

“And, too, he always pushed people’s buttons. Like, he liked to take things as far as he could but then pull back.”

“How do you mean?”

“He would flirt, he would antagonize people, he was always looking for a reaction. And he knew what he could get away with. It was scary how well he could read people.”

“Did he read you?”

Keith squinted. “Excuse me?”

“He got under your skin, didn’t he?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not like—no, I mean… he wasn’t trying—“

Matt waited.

“Well, I wasn’t his first affair. He really got away with a lot—even Haggar turned a blind eye. But, well… I guess, yeah, he did read me. He saw that I was attracted to him, and he knew just what to do from there. I mean, I told myself it was just the mission, that it wasn’t me, but I knew it was me all along.”

“Does that bother you?”

“I don’t know. It probably should, though, huh? That he used me, probably just to get a knife from me. I guess I gave him a different out from what he expected, but even then he went back to his old ways.” He frowned. “But he’s been hurt, I can’t blame him.”

“Illness does not excuse behavior, it merely provides some explanation. The consequences of his action, regardless of what state he’s in, are still felt by others. By you.”

“So this is what this all was about, huh?”

“It was about a lot of things,” he confessed. “But let’s keep going. When Lance tried to take his life, how did you feel?”

“I was upset, of course, shocked. Then I was just worried…” he met Matt’s expectant stare. “And, yeah, I tried to squash it down out of guilt, but I was mad. I was hurt that he used me that way, that through all our conversations he didn’t ask for help.” He shook his head. “Even now I hate myself for saying that, making it about me when he’s the one who’s clearly hurting.”

“Maybe you’re both hurt. You’ve been fighting for him for a long time, Keith, helping him heal. But, you have to care for yourself, too. You can get help from others, just as Lance is getting help.”

“It’s not like I don’t like looking out for him, though. It’s not so draining as you’re making it seem. I love him.”

“And we love you, Keith. This isn’t me saying that Lance is bad for you, or anything like that. It’s more of all of us saying that we want what’s best for you, that we want you to take some time to recognize that you might need someone to lean on, and that it’s okay for you to lean on us. You’ve been manic lately, running around through all hours of the day, hyperfocused on Lance.”

“I have?”

Matt nodded. “It’s understandable that you’re concerned for his health, but he’s fine. No matter what negative picture your mind tries to paint for you of how he’s feeling, reality is that he’s asleep, his heart rate hasn’t fluctuated, his cortisol levels are ideal. He’s perfectly safe and content right now.”

Keith loosened his grip on the arms of the chair. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“And when he awakes?”

“We’ll be there, both for you and for him. And Hilley, too. Letting us babysit her every once in a while won’t change the fact that she’s picked you both as her caretakers,” he smiled.

“Alright, thanks.”

Matt stood. “I think this was a good first session, don’t you?”

He paled. “First? We’re not done?” Matt started heading toward the door, and Keith followed.

“Oh no. I didn’t get to talk nearly as much as I wanted to about your childhood trauma and how a lack of attachment may have lead to the unnaturally fast bond you’ve formed with Hilley, or about your clear disregard for your own life that leads you to do such reckless things as sleep with the enemy’s husband, or about how you chastise others for elevating Lance to a god-like status while you yourself tend to—“

“I get it, I get it. I’ll be back.”

“Good. Oh, maybe we can get some couple’s counseling in for you and Lance, too!”

He groaned. “Maybe I will go on another mission, just so I can avoid these interrogations.”

Matt laughed. “No missions till the good doctor clears you, I’m afraid.” He opened the door, letting Keith through first.

“Oh, hey,” Shiro was on the other side. “I thought you might be here. Where’s Hilley?”

“With Pidge,” Keith said. “What’s up?”

“I was wondering if we could talk.”

Despite having a somewhat better understanding of Shiro’s motivations, Keith was still bitter about all the yelling. He crossed his arms. “Talk? Or are you gonna shout at me again?”

Matt sighed, waving goodbye as he shuffled down the hallway.

“Talk. I swear.”

“Alright,” Keith flourished toward the door. “After you, then.”


End file.
